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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419585">There is no light without fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyzeia/pseuds/ladyzeia'>ladyzeia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Firelight [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU to Royal Edition/Comrades/Episode Ardyn/Dawn of the Future, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Ignis Scientia, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Ignis Spoilers, Episode Prompto Spoilers, First Time, Fix-It, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, M/M, Rebuilding, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:34:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>103,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyzeia/pseuds/ladyzeia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In theory, ten years ought to be enough time to come to terms with someone’s inevitable, imminent death.  But of course it <i>isn’t</i>.  Ignis doesn’t let his king go to the throne alone.  </p>
<p>Noctis wakes in the Dawn, facing the world the Night left behind and the decade he’s missed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Firelight [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>165</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27534709">Part 1</a> of this series first</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ignis couldn’t see the daemons, but he could feel them—<em>dozens</em> of them materializing around him and the others.  Their presence sucked the warmth from the air.  His skin prickled with gooseflesh beneath his jacket and shirt sleeves, the hair on the back of his neck taut with alarm.  Even without his sight, he could differentiate between the shrieking alberiches with their whip-like tails that whistled through the air and the chittering snagas that approached.  There were reapers, skeletal feet grating against the metal floor, the whoosh of their scythes cutting air.  Gargantuas spawned with a sound like the rending of entire buildings as they broke the barrier between dimensions, the pull of their gravity unmistakable. </p><p><em>We’re a bit outnumbered</em>.</p><p>Typically there was a smell, also—something putrid and dank and death-like.  Its absence was a bit odd, but perhaps the air circulation in the Zegnautus hangar was exceptionally effective.  Ignis didn’t let it concern him.</p><p>As the alberiches and snagas closed around him, he summoned ice to his daggers and lashed out with both blades.  Cold burst from his weapons, freezing the floor around his feet and exploding outwards.  The daemons were thrown back; Ignis followed the sound of their stumbling and hissing, and attacked—  His blades connected with rotting tissue and bone, and sliced through.  That wave—seven or so?—screamed their death cries and fell.  But there were more, immediately, pressing in to take the others’ places.</p><p>Another round of ice, then.  Ignis readied himself, waiting just a few seconds longer for the maximum effect…and then struck, obliterating the daemons around him.</p><p>But it wasn’t enough.  There were reapers closing in on him now, and he could hear the ghastly voices of wraiths joining the fray.</p><p>Ignis dispatched a third wave, and a fourth…  <em>This isn’t going to work.</em></p><p>Pinpointing Gladio was easy enough—Ignis could hear his grunts of exertion and feel the shockwave of air from the swing of his greatsword.  He timed his movements to the pattern of Gladio’s steps, springing off the floor and flipping over the heads of the daemons.  The swing of a reaper’s scythe came a little too close to his hair for comfort, but he landed on his feet at Gladio’s back, unscathed.</p><p>“They just keep coming!”  Gladio swung again, scattering a handful of shrieking alberiches.</p><p>Ignis prepared more ice.  “Is there a way forward?”  He yelled to be heard over the sounds of the battle.</p><p>“The elevator!”  Noct was off to the right.  “It’s—”  He grunted in pain as whatever he was fighting landed a strike.  “It’s on the other side.  A hundred…a hundred and twenty feet?”</p><p>“Lots of nasties between us and there, dude,” Prompto said, pausing to reload.  “Lemme clear a path—”</p><p>An automated female voice came from somewhere overhead.  “<em>Emergency containment measures activated.  Hangar doors closing.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.”  Noct’s voice was tight.  “Guys, we gotta <em>move!</em>”</p><p>Ignis didn’t need to see to calculate the odds—the dense field of daemons, the distance and dwindling time commensurate with the panic in Noct’s voice.  There was only one clear and obvious solution—</p><p>“Noct!  You must go on alone.”  Ignis didn’t <em>like</em> it, but what choice did they have? </p><p>“<em>What?</em>”</p><p>He hated being the cause of the shock in Noct’s voice even more.  Noct could make it, but not if he waited for them.  Ignis sidestepped a reaper’s swipe and plunged both of his daggers into its bony ribcage.  “If you can obtain the Crystal’s power, we may yet turn the tide.  Otherwise—”</p><p>He felt a sudden, dizzying wave of déjà vu and wasn’t at all certain as to <em>why.</em></p><p>“Iggy’s right,” Gladio said, his swing colliding with several more daemons.  “It’s our only chance.”</p><p><em>I’ve said these words before.  I’ve <strong>heard</strong></em> <em>these words before—</em>  He somehow <em>knew</em> what was coming next.  Noct would protest and Prompto would—</p><p>“<em>But what about you?</em>”  Noct hesitated, the anxiety in his voice for their sakes, not for himself.</p><p>“We’ll manage somehow!” Prompto shouted back.  “Just go!”</p><p>Air hissed out through Noct’s teeth, then there was the familiar, reality-bending sound of his warp—</p><p>Noct would make it—he would go to the Crystal, and—</p><p>The wave of dizziness came over Ignis again, forcing the air violently from his lungs.  <em>No, Noct—  Don’t—</em>  Something inside his head was screaming, his heart seizing up in his chest.  <em>It’s a trap, Noct!</em> </p><p>A scythe cut into Ignis’s shoulder.  He saw red, staggering to the side, the pain oddly dull for the injury he’d just received.  Ignis whirled, calling flame to his daggers and cutting through bone as he dispatched the reaper who’d struck him.  Its skeletal remains clattered to the floor near his feet.  Before he could move to engage the next adversary, there was a sucking sound, air displaced—</p><p>Ignis didn’t react in time, caught by the heavy blow of a gargantua’s sword and swept neatly off his feet.  His back throbbed, body spilled to the floor like a ragdoll, strangely numb to the pain.  Ignis stared upward, gasping for breath, blinking behind his glasses by reflex—  For a moment, he saw static—<em>static?</em>—and a wisp of magenta light—</p><p>Out of blackness, the world formed before his eyes, if fuzzy and indistinct—wavy outlines of gray, though he saw the daemons well enough—the blood on their claws, the hazy miasma swirling around them.  None of this was right—not the world, not his vision, not the way Gladio and Prompto battled onward heedless that he’d fallen, and—above all—not them letting Noct go on to face Ardyn’s trap by himself—</p><p>It <em>was</em> a trap.  He didn’t know how he knew, except for the awful feeling in his stomach, the panic squeezing his chest.  They’d be too late if he didn’t do something.  Noct would be <em>gone</em> if he didn’t—</p><p>Ignis couldn’t let it happen again.  He <em>wouldn’t</em>.</p><p>Narrowly avoiding another slash of the gargantua’s sword, Ignis rolled to his feet.  He couldn’t make out any features of the hangar, nor its layout, but Gladio was right beside him and Prompto wasn’t far off.  He didn’t spare a second to wonder how he could see them at all.</p><p>Ignis grabbed Gladio’s arm.  “We haven’t time to waste!”</p><p>“You think I don’t know that?”  Gladio shrugged him off, face twisted into a grimace.  “Prompto!”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m doing it!”  Prompto leveled his auto-crossbow at the daemons blocking their path.  “On your right!”</p><p>Ignis flinched away from Prompto’s line of fire, crossbow bolts drilling into the enemy, their bodies littering the floor.</p><p>Before more daemons could close in, Ignis brandished his daggers, lightning sizzling down his wrists to the ends of his blades.  “Let’s go!”</p><p>He sprinted, zipping from one enemy to the next until the void swallowed him again—gray nothingness in all directions.  But, presumably, that elevator was close by?</p><p>“Iggy!  Hold up!”  Gladio caught up with him seconds later, clapping a hand on his shoulder.  “This way.”  He steered, Ignis followed.  There was the tap of buttons, then machinery clanking, a lift whirring—</p><p>Ignis’s heart pounded in his chest, cold pulses of fear flooding his veins.  “It’s a trap,” he said between breaths.  “We shouldn’t have let—”</p><p>Gladio looked at him sharply.  “But you said—”</p><p>“I know what I said!”  <em>But I was wrong.  Everything is wrong—</em></p><p>“Gravisphere!”  Prompto joined them, chucking his specially made projectile into the fray.  It exploded with peals of amber and violet light; Ignis felt the magic tugging at his clothes like an insistent breeze.</p><p>The daemons weren’t so lucky, sucked into a pile, struggling and failing to get free.  It bought them seconds in which the lift arrived, doors parting with a shriek of metal.  Gladio hauled them both inside.</p><p>“What are you not saying?” Gladio asked, in his face.  Ignis could see the sweat beading on his brow, a fresh gash high on his left cheek.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said.  The lift shuddered and moved, dropping them down to the floor below.  “Just be ready to run.”</p><p>“Iggy?”  Prompto looked at him, face creased with concern.</p><p>“No.”  Ignis shook his head.  “I’m not OK.  None of this is—”</p><p>The elevator jerked to a stop. </p><p>“Yeah, fine.  Explain later.”  Gladio grabbed his arm.</p><p>This part of the hangar was just as indistinct—a blank darkness until shapes slammed into him, as if forming out of the nothingness—a railing that his hip clipped…a wall…deactivated machinery…  They ran, Ignis trusting Gladio to lead him, the three of them racing past the daemons until Gladio pulled him to a sudden halt.</p><p>“No chance prying those open,” Prompto murmured, glancing up at something Ignis couldn’t see.</p><p>“Control panel?” Gladio asked, looking around them.</p><p>Ignis tried to concentrate.  If, truly, he’d been here before—  It clicked.  “Service door, on the left?”</p><p>“How did you…?”  Prompto looked at him curiously.</p><p>“Stop asking questions.”  Gladio pulled Ignis by the elbow.</p><p>There was a panel on the wall—buttons, a glossy-smooth reader Ignis’s fingers danced across.  He stepped back.  “Prompto, might you?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.”  Prompto took his place, scanning his wrist.  The lock unlatched.</p><p>Gladio opened the door and they spilled through to the other side.  There was nothing but darkness, the dread mounting in Ignis’s chest.  They couldn’t be too late.  Not this time—</p><p>As the elevator at the center of the spire carried them upwards, Ignis paced.  None of them dared to speak as the seconds ticked by, each one longer than the last.</p><p>Finally, the lift slowed to a stop and the doors opened onto a gantry—he only saw the rough shape of it, disappearing into formless black.  The Crystal, though, he saw in sharp, perfect focus—blue and faceted and glowing from within.  It hung in the center of the emptiness, shedding its light on the man who stood before it, silhouetted in his fedora and coat and layers, smiling in the shadows. </p><p>“Noct!”  Gladio pushed past him, running.  Prompto went with him.</p><p>But Noct was already gone.  The air rushed out of Ignis’s lungs.  He took a step forward and nearly stumbled, as if all the life had drained from his limbs.</p><p><em>Too late…again</em>.</p><p>His hand found a rail he couldn’t see; he grasped it as he propelled himself forward on will alone, his chest aching.  He’d felt no pain until now.  <em>This</em> was like a knife embedded in his heart, wrenched in a cruel twist.  <em>No.</em>  <em>Not again</em>.  If only—</p><p>Gladio swung, Prompto fired—  Ardyn crumbled to the ground, but only for a moment.  Then he picked himself up, none the worse for wear, and sauntered past them.</p><p>Ignis straightened up, braced to fight as Ardyn paused in front of him. </p><p>“What a pity.”  Ardyn smiled, callous and mirthlessly.  In his right hand, he toyed with a blade Ignis had seen before—at Leviathan’s altar.  “So close, and yet—too late again.”  His eyes shimmered.  “But for your persistence…”  He took hold of Ignis’s left shoulder, “a gift.”</p><p>The blade slipped between Ignis’s ribs—pressure and hot pain.  He gasped, his breath gurgling, tasting blood.</p><p>“On second thought, how rude of me.  This would be more fitting, surely.”  Ardyn lifted his hand, summoning a sword in a shower of magenta sparks, refracting and crystalline.  He plunged it neatly alongside the dagger, running Ignis through, steel coated in red.</p><p>Ardyn’s hold alone kept him upright, limp against the railing as the warmth began to drain from his body.</p><p>“Does this remind you of anything?  <em>O Hand of the King</em>…”</p><p>The world shattered into nothingness and reformed into blue.</p><p>This, Ignis saw perfectly—the Citadel, the throne room.  The Crystal hovered above the throne and Noct was seated beneath it, though it wasn’t Noct the way Ignis knew him.  His jaw was wider and square, a rough beard running along the edge and above his upper lip.  The ridge of his brow was more pronounced, which should have brought a sharp intensity to his eyes, except…  Except his face was twisted into a grimace of pain, his eyes shadowed and dull.  King Regis’s sword pierced his torso, pinning him to the throne, his blood darkening the black suit he wore.</p><p>“Noct!”  Ignis ignored the ache in his chest as he scrambled up the stairs, slipping on the marble, bruising his knees in his haste.  There were far too many steps—he cursed their designers as he righted himself and ran, finally reaching the top and crashing into the throne.</p><p>Air threaded between Noctis’s lips, his lashes fluttering weakly.</p><p>“<em>Noct!</em>”  Ignis hovered over his king, digging into his pockets for the curatives he always carried, but there was nothing—his pockets were empty—they were <em>never</em> empty—</p><p>“Ignis…”  Noct’s hand twitched, the ring glinting on his finger.</p><p>Ignis caught his hand in both of his own, dropping to his knees and shaking.  Panic seized him, his heart hammering in his chest.  What could he do?  <em>What should he do?</em></p><p>Noctis reached higher…and something in Ignis stilled.  He leaned forward—  Cold fingertips touched his face and Noct smiled, even as the light dimmed in his blue eyes.  “In case I don’t get to tell you again.”  Noct’s hand scraped a line across Ignis’s cheek, just beneath the edge of his glasses.  “I love you, Specs.”</p><p>Then he slumped, limp, and Ignis surged upright, pain and tears pouring from him.  “<em>Noct—!!</em>”</p><p>—He woke, gasping, in the dark, drawing one shuddering breath after another.  Ignis blinked, staring into blackness despite the warmth of light he could feel on his skin.</p><p><em>Oh.</em>  That dream again.</p><p>“Sir, are you alright?”  The voice, from his right, belonged to a young man he knew well, anchoring him into the present, pulling him out of the past—Talcott Hester. </p><p>Ignis took a slow breath—in and out—to calm himself, though his heart didn’t obey, still tapping a staccato rhythm in his chest.  “I’m quite alright, Talcott, thank you.”  He sat up, pushing his blanket aside and plucking at his sweat-dampened shirt.  “Kindly remind me where we are, please?”</p><p>“Thommel’s Glade,” Talcott said, hovering at his side.  “Yesterday, we were—”</p><p>“Yes, I remember.”  It came back to him gradually—where and <em>when</em> he was.  Not in Zegnautus Keep, nor in the Citadel’s throne room.  “The Tomb of the Just.”  He’d thought to visit it again, and Talcott had been as happy as ever to be dragged along.  Though it proved a fruitless trip in the end.  The tomb had no more secrets to divulge, at least to him.</p><p>“You…”  Talcott hesitated.  “You seemed to be having a bad dream.”</p><p>“A recurring one as of late.”  Ignis sighed, bending one of his knees and drawing it towards him to rest his arm on top.  “I’m fine.  I apologize for startling you.  The disorientation will pass now that I’m awake.”  If only the images would fade as easily, but he had nothing to replace them with.  He felt around for his visor and slipped it on, then reached for his phone.  Ten years and his memories of Zegnautus Keep were as vivid and painful as if the events had happened days or weeks ago, rather than years.  It wasn’t rare for him to dream of it, to relive it with his subconscious mind twisting certain elements—twisting his regrets—to torture him.  But over the last month, the last two weeks, more often than not…</p><p>He found his phone and tapped it awake.  “Time and date.”</p><p>A synthetic, androgynous voice answered him:  “Zero-five eighteen, M.E. seven sixty-six, Thursday, August thirtieth.”</p><p>And that, more than anything else, sent his heart into a cold spiral.  Perhaps the reason for his dreams wasn’t so strange at all.  As silence returned, neither of them speaking, the hollow pain in Ignis’s chest, still fresh from his dream, deepened.  It pressed against his ribs, sharpening with each breath he drew until he couldn’t bear it any longer.</p><p>“Pardon me a moment,” he said, getting up, forgoing his gloves and jacket for the time being.  They’d made camp just inside the entrance of the tomb, if he recalled correctly, as daemons never crossed the threshold, light or no light.  Ignis found the wall, trailing his fingers along the stone until he came to the doorway. </p><p>He only slipped the barest distance around it, leaning back against the carvings and reaching for the Armiger.</p><p>There was always a sharp stab of fear, that split-second—<em>what if it doesn’t work this time?</em>—that would ruin him in an instant.  But the daggers materialized in his hands, their hilts solid, grips warming against his palms.  Residual magic sizzled up his arms, a familiar reassurance that loosened his chest and allowed him to breathe again.</p><p><em>Noct</em>…</p><p>As long as he could access the Armiger, he knew Noct was alive, Noct was safe, Noct was <em>somewhere</em>.  It was a daily ritual.  Hourly, sometimes, on those bleakest of days when the body count was too high, the food stores too low, and all he had were scraps of hope to cling to.</p><p>Today wasn’t one of those days…it was a torture all its own.  And still, the vision of blue remained—of Noct on the throne, bathed in the Crystal’s light, dying for the world.</p><p>Sometimes <em>familiar</em> wasn’t enough.  Ignis banished his daggers back into the Armiger and reached for something else.  Something he wouldn’t have summoned before without Noct’s permission.  Now, perhaps he was being too bold, but he couldn’t be terribly bothered by the thought of offending the Lucii.  Not when they’d taken his king and given him a death sentence.  In any case, he wasn’t forcing the kings and queens of Lucis to heed his call.  He could only ask and wait…</p><p>It took longer than the daggers, but the glaive came to him, materializing in his right hand, its wrapped hilt smooth against his skin.  He needed two hands to hold it, catching the flat of the katana’s blade in his left hand.  Not because it was heavy, but because he wasn’t of a blood to wield it, apart from Noct.  It was an elegant sword, long and sleek, perfectly balanced.  He appreciated its craftmanship as much as the yearning imbued into the blade.</p><p>“Oh, wow, is that…?”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow, but Talcott couldn’t be blamed for his curiosity.  They’d spent years visiting the tombs together and it never once occurred to him to make a practical lesson of it.  “The Katana of the Warrior, yes.  May I say I don’t make a habit of risking the Lucii’s wrath.  Only on…special occasions, as it were.”</p><p>Talcott came closer, though the sound of his footsteps stopped at a respectful distance.  “It’s amazing.  I remember seeing King Regis’s sword during ceremonies.  This one, I’ve only seen in drawings.”  He paused, Ignis sensing the youth’s gaze on his face.  “But, I thought…?”</p><p>“Quite right.  Only the line of Lucis Caelum can wield the royal arms.”  Ignis closed his hand around the hilt, its grip familiar.  “Although the king can, temporarily, imbue his retainers with sufficient fortitude to bear it, in the heat of battle, for a short while.”  Already, his arms ached from holding it.  “It was one of the last we recovered.  I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve held it in the fray.  Yet, even now, I…”  There was a sorrow to the blade, something he recognized from the first moment he ever touched it at Noct’s behest.  “Well.”  Ignis swallowed.  It had been long enough.  He released the katana back to the Armiger, letting it vanish from his fingers, immaterial once more.  “It would be far too pretentious of me to presume any kind of synergy with the glaive of a king.”</p><p>“There…kind of is, though,” Talcott said, his voice tentative, the words offered cautiously.  “I mean, this one in particular.  The sword of a king who was ‘changed forever when his beloved was taken from him prematurely,’” he said, quoting from the ancient texts they’d studied together.  Each word sliced into Ignis’s heart like a dagger.  “‘It’s drawn and strikes in a single heartbeat.’”</p><p>Ignis’s lips parted around the breath he drew carefully.  “You’ve studied well.”</p><p>“I had a good teacher,” Talcott said.</p><p>He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the stone.  “A king who lost his queen.  While I…  I’m merely a chamberlain who’s lost his king.”  He allowed the bitter smile, canting his face in Talcott’s direction.  “Too pretentious, as I said.”</p><p>“…Yes, sir.”</p><p>Ignis shook his head at himself and moved past Talcott back into the tomb.  “You’ve places to be.”  He pulled on his gloves and started gathering his things.  “I must thank you for accompanying me yet again.”</p><p>“Of course, sir.  It’s my pleasure as always.”  Talcott followed him.</p><p>For a moment, they worked in silence, tidying up until Ignis was satisfied they’d leave no trace of their visit.  At the entrance, he pressed his fist to his chest and bowed facing the Just’s sarcophagus.  “For your merciful benevolence, Your Majesty.  Thank you.”</p><p>“Thank you, Your Majesty.”  Talcott bowed beside him.</p><p>It was a short trek back to the nearest output, wordless except for the daemons they fought along the way.  Soon, Talcott was warming up his truck, ready to make his rounds for the day. </p><p>Though, he hesitated before climbing into the driver’s seat and Ignis wasn’t terribly surprised.</p><p>“Sir, are you sure you won’t reconsider?  Miss Iris and Master Prompto have taken care of everything.  You won’t have to lift a finger.  Of course, we invited Master Gladiolus as well, but…”</p><p>Ignis gave the youth a nod.  “I promise I’ll find my way back to Lestallum tomorrow or the day after.  Thank you again, Talcott.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”  If he was disappointed, he didn’t let much of it into his voice.</p><p>Ignis stepped back as Talcott climbed into his truck and shifted into gear.  He waved even though he couldn’t see Talcott wave back. </p><p>As the truck drove off, Ignis remained a moment longer, listening to the sound of its engine fade into the distance.  Perhaps he should have gone this year.  But…</p><p><em>A king who’d lost his beloved…</em>  Pretentious and transparent, apparently.  Clearly, he needed a bit of time alone.</p><p>Ignis caught a ride out to Hammerhead, though he didn’t spend any time at the outpost, turning east along the road.  Brackham Haven was near Ostium Gorge, near the bridge to Insomnia, south of the once-Imperial blockade.  It took the better part of the day to get there with the scores of daemons he encountered on the way.  But he made it without incident, if with the dust of Leide coating his clothing.</p><p>Once, a decade ago, they’d pushed the Regalia along this road under the blazing sun.  What a carefree man he’d been then; what a carefree world he’d left behind.</p><p>The haven’s glow was lost to him, but the stone was warm beneath his fingers, sustained by old magic even now.</p><p>Ignis washed up and set out camp for one.  He was in the middle of arranging his cookware when his phone chimed with a chocobo’s soft <em>kweh</em>, indicating a text message received.</p><p>Ignis took out his phone, swiping his pattern for messages. </p><p>Prompto’s voice came back to him—a recording, rather than a normal text.  “Hey, buddy!  Just, you know, checking in.  Text me back, OK?”</p><p>No doubt he’d sent something similar to Gladio.  They could go weeks without talking sometimes—with just the occasional status by email.  But not on a day like today. </p><p>Ignis pressed his thumb on the screen until the phone beeped that the recording had started.  “This is me texting you back,” he said.  “Thank you for your message, Prompto.”  He tapped again, listened to the playback, and swiped to send the message off.</p><p>That done, he finished setting up his cookware and prepared dinner from his rations.  It was a humble meal—meat from a can, dried spices instead of fresh, simple flatbread rather than the hearty loaf he would have liked to bake.  But, the sentiment came through enough, he figured.  He faced his chair towards the road he could not see and ate his sandwich, washing down the bits that stuck in his throat with water from his canteen.</p><p>The bottle Ignis pulled from the Armiger was too light, nigh empty—far more air than liquid left sloshing against the glass.  Maybe he shouldn’t drink any this year at all, though the thought of that—of <em>not</em> marking the occasion with even such a meager tradition as this, made the ache in his chest turn sharp again.  It was pressure on his lungs, the burn of breath held too long, the weight of the darkness surrounding him.  The camping chair creaked as Ignis shifted, pouring only a splash of wine into his glass.  He imagined he could see it—the dark burgundy of the wine, the elegant stemware that had no real place among the camping gear, the flickering yellow-orange flames of his campfire.  He imagined there was someone sitting near him, firelight in black hair.  But he saw nothing except a gray glow, formless and indistinct, before him. </p><p>Ignis set the bottle aside—the cooler next to his chair doubling as his table—placing it with his dish, napkin, and utensils.  Wistful, he let his thumb glide across the embossed lettering on the label—vintage year M.E. 735—before he let go.  Drawing a breath, Ignis raised his glass in toast—</p><p>“Happy Birthday, Noct.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ignis was spared the dream as he slept that night, waking to company rather than his alarm as often happened.  He counted eight floating gray orbs beyond the edge of the haven, though he couldn’t be certain of their numbers.  The bomb-daemons glowed brightly enough for him to differentiate them from the darkness as spots of lighter black with barely discernable hues—though it could have been his imagination, or his mind filling in details betrayed by the sounds they made.  How the galvanades, grenades, and cryonades never seemed to annihilate each other with their opposing elements was a mystery to him, but they often roved in packs.</p>
<p>As they didn’t approach the haven within a distance to attack, Ignis took his time getting up.  Feeling indulgent, he made a bit of coffee from his rations and heated up a tin of soup for his breakfast.  And he sat in his chair eating his meal, sipping from his mug, and watching the impromptu light show as the daemons hovered restlessly in the dark, dancing impatiently for a meal they would not get. </p>
<p>“Not quite stargazing, is it?” Ignis said to his absent companion.  He allowed a rare smile, the pain not as visceral this morning.</p>
<p>It was only when he was finished, when his dishes were cleaned and his hair was combed, and everything was tucked back into the Armiger where it belonged—then, he took his daggers in hand and stepped to the edge of the haven.</p>
<p>“I believe this dance is mine?”  Ignis leapt to the ground, shedding ice from his blades. </p>
<p>The blast drove the galvanades and grenades from him, while the cryonades drew in closer, greedily absorbing his magic.  They were two of the approximate eight and a few targeted slashes from his fire-coated daggers extinguished their light.  Their darkened husks fell, thudding to the barren ground.</p>
<p>Ignis chased the grenades with his ice, dodging out of the way of the fireballs they spat at him.  Once they were vanquished, he used a combination of ice and fire to finish off the galvanades.  There ended up being four of them, nine daemons in total.  Their electricity fizzled with their demise, static snapping along Ignis’s arms and making a bit of his hair stand on end until he smoothed it back into place.</p>
<p>Nothing like a brisk, morning workout, though he’d barely broken a sweat.  “More of a glow, really,” he said, side-stepping the daemon’s lightless corpses.</p>
<p>With his company thusly addressed, Ignis ascertained north by putting the sound of water on his right and walked until he found the road.</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>Fighting his way to the blockade took a bit more effort.  It never failed to surprise him that there were still functioning magitek troopers about, if fewer now than when the Night began. </p>
<p>He’d just reached the gates when his phone sang to him, a baritone aria backed by strings and percussion.  Ignis answered his phone while keeping a fire dagger out to ward off interruptions.  “Gladio.”</p>
<p>“Hey.”  Gladio’s voice was on the tinny side, not much reception wherever he was.  “You busy?”</p>
<p>“Not terribly, no,” Ignis said, dodging a trooper’s strike and using his dagger to finish it off.  He whirled away from the impending explosion.  “Something I can help with?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  Cindy called.  There’s a nest of mutant coeurls up by Keycatrich they’re having trouble with.  I’m headed back to Lestallum now.  You up for a trip out to Leide?”</p>
<p>“I’m here already.  Where shall I meet you?”</p>
<p>“You’re where?” Gladio asked.</p>
<p>“Ostium Gorge.  The blockade, specifically.”</p>
<p>There was a pause on the other end of the line.  Ignis took advantage of the moment to fell another trooper and take to the road.</p>
<p>At length, Gladio snorted.  “That’s a bit dangerous, even for you.”</p>
<p>“And where might <em>you </em>be departing from, en route back to Lestallum?”  He listened, fairly certain he could hear water and rushes in the background, through the static. </p>
<p>Gladio exhaled.  “…Vesperpool.”</p>
<p>“Ah.”  Ignis smiled faintly.  “A perfectly safe destination, that.  Tell me, did you catch anything?  Besides large snakes with an appetite for people.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I’ll shut up.”  He could picture Gladio waving a hand dismissively.  “I’m gonna pick up Prompto and head out, alright?  Meet you at the outpost?”</p>
<p>“I’ll be there.”</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>The Prairie Outpost, south of the Keycatrich Ruins, had been lost and won and lost again to the daemons over the years of the Night.  Eventually, most of the infrastructure had been dismantled and moved, relocated behind barricades just off the main road.  Keeping the northern pass through the Malacchi Hills accessible was of vital importance to the connection of the region, not to mention that it served as the most direct route between Lestallum and Hammerhead. </p>
<p>Ignis caught a ride from Hammerhead with hunters on their daily patrols.  It was a short trip—they were only stopped once by a red giant blocking the road.  Soon, the truck pulled off and parked; Ignis could feel the light and hear the hum of the outpost’s equipment.</p>
<p>“We’re here, sir.”</p>
<p>“Thank you kindly.”  He hopped down from the bed of the truck with a few others and swapped his daggers for his cane from the Armiger.  The outpost was little more than trailers, spike fences, trucks, and transceiver stations, but things always seemed to be oriented in a slightly different manner each time he came. </p>
<p>He spent a few moments relearning the place and adjusting his mental map, shifting the pieces in his mind like a puzzle to form a new picture.  The hunters had tightened things up, shorn up the fortifications in certain areas—particularly on the north side of the outpost—and they’d brought in a new, larger backup generator to replace the old one.  Satisfied that he had the lay of the land, Ignis settled by the radio, chatting with the hunters over a cup of what was generously called coffee.  Made from coffee grounds mixed with chicory and roasted grains, it was no Ebony.  But what it lacked in terms of flavor and caffeine content was compensated by camaraderie, survivors banding together, making hope when all seemed lost.</p>
<p>When the next truck arrived, a couple of hours later, Ignis heard Prompto’s voice straight away, greeting the hunters he knew.</p>
<p>“Hey, you guys changed things around!  New barricades, huh?”  The familiar sound of his camera’s fake shutter followed.</p>
<p>Ignis rose from his chair and went to join them.</p>
<p>“Iggy, hey!”  Prompto came up to him, clapping a hand on his left arm.  “Great to see you!  You’re looking good, as always.”</p>
<p>Ignis nodded.  His dreams aside, it had been some time since they’d been together in person.  “You as well, Prompto.”  He smiled.  “Have you shaved yet?”</p>
<p>Prompto groaned.  “Aww, come on.  You can’t even <em>see</em> it!”</p>
<p>Gladio laughed.  “He’s trimmed it, at least.  It’s not as tragic as before.”</p>
<p>“Oh, like you’re one to talk.”  Prompto snorted, followed by the sound of a fist hitting leather.</p>
<p>“At least I can grow a beard.  Not whatever you call <em>that</em>.”</p>
<p>There should have been a fourth voice among them, especially on the topic of beards.  Ignis recalled, rather unwillingly, the images from his dreams and visions, of Noct—older—with rough black stubble all along his jawline and blood staining his lower lip.</p>
<p><em>Damn it</em>.  A lump formed in his throat.</p>
<p>The air between them shifted, words fading into a strained silence.  —As often happened, when the three of them were together.</p>
<p>“So…ready to go?” Gladio asked.</p>
<p>“Yes.  Let’s,” Ignis said.</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>Routing the mutant coeurl nest took a bit of doing, but it was nothing the three of them couldn’t handle together.  Even without Noct at their center, they operated around each other seamlessly—attack, defense, supporting one another.  Though it hadn’t always been this way.  The first months after losing Noct to the Crystal, they’d been an uncoordinated mess, battling like severed limbs without a body, each struggling to lead and to follow, to organize themselves into some semblance of a strategy.  But, gradually, they’d gotten the hang of it.  For Ignis, at least, it was simply easier to imagine that Noct was with them, or nearby, calling the shots or waiting for them to catch up.  When they ceased trying to assume Noct’s role among them, that’s when it started to work, as they relaxed into old patterns and muscle memories without the need for continuous concentration.</p>
<p>So it wasn’t long before they were standing over a half dozen coeurl corpses, a bit dusty, sweaty, and mildly electrocuted but otherwise none the worse for wear.</p>
<p>“Anything worth carting back?” Ignis asked, brushing off his trousers.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  There was a whoosh of air as Gladio made a slice with his greatsword.  Not the most precise tool for the job, but it sufficed, Ignis supposed.  “Some of these whiskers are intact.  Still sparking.”</p>
<p>“Cid will be pleased to hear it.”  Literally the only tinkering shop in business these days, Cid always had a need for materials to remodel weapons.</p>
<p>“I hate killing cats,” Prompto muttered, wandering a few steps away.</p>
<p>Ignis arched a brow.  “They’d happily eat you.  Particularly these mutated ones.”</p>
<p>“I know.”  He sighed.</p>
<p>Ignis couldn’t fault him for the sentiment, quite fond of the majestic cats himself, though fonder of survival as of late.</p>
<p>“I’m beat.  Can we rest before heading back?”</p>
<p>“Lepellieth Haven isn’t far from here,” Ignis said.  “I agree a short rest would do us good, Noc—”  He realized too late that <em>Prompto</em> was the one who’d spoken, even if he’d heard the words in Noct’s voice.</p>
<p>The other two went silent, having undoubtedly heard his slip of the tongue.</p>
<p>“Apologies,” Ignis murmured, angling his face away as he felt his cheeks warm.</p>
<p>“It’s…not something you need to say ‘sorry’ for,” Prompto said, his voice gentle.  “We’re all—”</p>
<p>“We’re done here,” Gladio said, with a grunt of exertion that Ignis took as him hauling the bundle of coeurl whiskers onto his shoulder.  “Let’s go.”  He started off without another word.</p>
<p>Prompto hung back and Ignis felt the weight of his gaze, as if he wanted to say more, but was uncertain if he should.  Ignis spared him the trouble, swapping to his cane and moving to follow Gladio’s footsteps.</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>For long stretches of minutes, they traversed the uneven terrain without speaking.</p>
<p>In the end, it was Prompto who breached the silence, never one to let them stew too long in their thoughts.  “So…uh…you guys missed a nice party, yesterday.”</p>
<p>Ignis knew this conversation was inevitable.  He could’ve gone without talking about it, though at the same time he knew that Prompto needed to.</p>
<p>“Iris and Monica made some amazing food out of the rations everyone pitched in.  You would’ve been proud, Iggy.”</p>
<p>Sidestepping a rock, he dipped his head, acknowledging the sentiment.</p>
<p>“The kids went all-out decorating the plaza.  There was even a cake!  Just a small one, but we scraped together enough candles.”  Prompto laughed with forced cheer.  “There was barely any room on top for all of them.  Thirty-one, kind of a lot, you know?”</p>
<p>Ignis listened, accepting the ache Prompto’s words woke in his chest.  A few paces to his right, however, he could sense Gladio tensing up.</p>
<p>“There was only enough for everyone to get a taste, but…”  Prompto trailed off.</p>
<p>For a moment, it was quiet save for the sound of their three pairs of boots, crunching gravel underfoot.</p>
<p>When Prompto next spoke, his voice was hesitant.  “You think…  You think Noct would’ve liked it?”</p>
<p>Ignis closed his eyes behind his visor, feeling the pain twist like a knife in his chest.  “Being surrounded by his closest friends, of course he would have.”</p>
<p>Gladio said nothing.</p>
<p>Prompto drew a breath and released it.  “It’s just…not the same without you guys there.  Feels…weird.”  He paused.  “Like something’s missing.”</p>
<p>“Something <em>is</em> missing.”  Gladio kicked the ground and a rock or similar object went tumbling off into the distance.  “Is that what it’s gonna be, now?  We hold a yearly festival to celebrate and honor the king.  Like he’s <em>dead.</em>”</p>
<p>“That’s—”  Prompto must have flinched.  “That’s not it.”</p>
<p>“Gladio.”  Ignis let his voice harden.  “You know full well that everyone is just doing what they can to keep hope alive.  We’re no different.”  He would not allow the argument.  Whereas he and Gladio needed solitude to get through the pain, Prompto and the others needed to be together.  No one way was more or less valid than any other.</p>
<p>Long, tense seconds passed—Prompto trying not to be wounded, Gladio trying not to break.  In the end, though—</p>
<p>“I’m sick of hoping.”  It wasn’t an apology, but Gladio’s admission softened the air between them—acknowledging their shared pain.</p>
<p>“As am I,” Ignis said.</p>
<p>Conversation faded after that.  They walked the rest of the way in silence.</p>
<p>Upon reaching the haven, they set up camp.  Gladio brought root vegetables and canned beans from Lestallum, enough for the three of them.  Ignis fried up a bit of canned meat to make it a meal while Prompto built a fire.</p>
<p>…He dreamed of Zegnautus Keep again that night, sucked into the past, reliving for the umpteenth time the way he sent Noct on ahead…and how he battled through the endless waves of daemons only to lose his king again, over and over.  First to the Crystal and then to the Lucii.  Blood coated his hands, dark in the blue light of the throne room as Ignis tried in vain to stop the flow of it from Noct’s chest—</p>
<p>“Hey Iggy, wake up!”  Prompto was shaking his shoulder when he came to.</p>
<p>Blue bled to black as he gasped and blinked, the sound of his desperate cries fading into memory.  On his right, the campfire crackled, wood splitting—a flickering, grayish glow on the edge of his vision.</p>
<p>“Nightmare, huh?”  Prompto kept hold of his arm, helping him to sit up.  “I still have ‘em too.”</p>
<p>Ignis smoothed a hand over his face, feeling nothing but a faint tingle when he brushed his scars.  He sighed, donning his visor and finger-combing his hair into something presentable.  The dream was too vivid.  He pressed his hands together, almost surprised to find them dry…rather than wet with his king’s blood.  “Had we gone with him—”</p>
<p>“This again,” Gladio said from behind him. </p>
<p>True, it wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but—</p>
<p>Prompto touched his arm again.  “Iggy, I mean, yeah, I—  I regret it too, but—”</p>
<p>“What do you think we could’ve done?”  Gladio’s voice was flat; there was an accompanying rustle of fabric as he moved, the scritch of boots against stone.  “You were there.  Our attacks should’ve killed Ardyn.  He shrugged them off like they were <em>nothing</em>.”  He paced, the words laced with bitterness.</p>
<p>Ignis closed his eyes, haunted by a remnant of the Crystal’s blue light.  “We should’ve been there.  Maybe then Noct would be with us now.”</p>
<p>“You don’t know things would’ve happened any differently.”</p>
<p>“You’re right, I don’t.”</p>
<p>“We can’t go back.”  Gladio’s voice was like iron.  “You need to drop it.”</p>
<p>Ignis shook his head.  “Then, there might have been another way, but now—”</p>
<p>“I <em>said</em> to give it a rest!”</p>
<p>Prompto’s hand tightened on Ignis’s arm.  “Noct’s coming back.  There’s no way he’s not—”</p>
<p>“We need to look forward,” Gladio said.</p>
<p>“<em>Forward</em>.”  Ignis hung his head, the air leaving his lungs all at once.  “I <em>am</em> looking forward.  Noct will return, whether it’s a hundred years from now or tomorrow.  But he only comes back to die.  That’s how the prophecy will be fulfilled.”  He hated every word he spoke.</p>
<p>Heartbeats full of silence answered him, none of them breathing.</p>
<p>When his companions recovered, they spoke over each other—</p>
<p>“Wait.”  Prompto squeezed his arm to the point of pain.  “Are you…  Are you <em>saying—</em>?”</p>
<p>“Like we don’t know that!”  Gladio threw something down, raising a cloud of dust.</p>
<p>“<em>I </em>don’t know that.  What are you <em>talking</em> about?”</p>
<p>Ignis inhaled slowly, unsteadily.  He opened his hands, gazing down into the darkness where they should be—empty, in front of him.  “I have tried,” he said, voice breaking.  “And I have found nothing.”  For all of his searching, poring through the texts, delving into one tomb after another.  “No loophole, no help, no chance.  But that will not stop me from doing <em>everything I can</em>.  This time.”  He raised his head, looking in Prompto’s direction and then towards the sound of Gladio’s labored breathing.  “I won’t ask the same of you.  But I will have you know where I stand.”</p>
<p>Prompto’s grip loosened and fell away.  “Iggy,” he said, his voice soft and sad.  </p>
<p>Gladio sucked air through his teeth and didn’t speak.</p>
<p>“You think…”  Prompto sniffed, clearly fighting tears.  “You think he really might not come back in our lifetimes?”</p>
<p><em>There won’t be much of a world left to save if he doesn’t</em>.  “…I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“And, for real, you’re saying that…that he’s just gonna…”</p>
<p>Ignis balled his hands into fists in his lap.  “It’s the cost of the dawn.”</p>
<p>Prompto made a quiet, strangled noise.  It was followed by a sound like distant wind chimes and breaking glass—something summoned and banished to the Armiger repeatedly—while Prompto’s boot tapped nervously against the haven’s stone where they sat.  “<em>Fuck</em>,” he whispered, voice crumbling, and Ignis could imagine him curling in on himself.  “How long have you known?”</p>
<p>…This wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but he had only himself to blame.  “Since Altissia.”</p>
<p>“<em>What?</em>”  Prompto sprung away from him, backing up, boots scuffing against rock.  “You knew, too?”  The question was directed at Gladio.</p>
<p>Gladio shifted from one foot to the other, “Yeah, but—”</p>
<p>“<em>What the hell?</em>” Prompto’s voice trembled—he was definitely crying now.  “You never thought to tell me something important like this?  I’m the last to know?”</p>
<p>Ignis inhaled.  “Prompto, I—”</p>
<p>“He didn’t tell me,” Gladio said.  “I overheard him talking to Noct—”</p>
<p>“Oh, so Noct knew too.”  Prompto choked on a sob.  “And couldn’t be bothered to tell his best friend.  Because why would you ever tell someone who cares about you that you’re gonna die?”</p>
<p>“I apologize,” Ignis said.  “I should have—”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>, don’t even, man.”  Prompto’s voice receded, his footsteps irregular at first, then he broke into a run—</p>
<p>Ignis shot to his feet.  “Prompto—”</p>
<p>Gladio’s hand on his shoulder held him back.  “Let him go.  He needs to work through it, just like we did.”</p>
<p>He was right, though it didn’t soothe the knots in Ignis’s stomach.  “I should’ve said something.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you should’ve.”  Gladio released him.  “Though I get why you didn’t.”</p>
<p>Ignis exhaled slowly, turning in his friend’s direction.  “So, Gralea…”  His face heated a bit.  “You were awake then?” </p>
<p>Gladio coughed softly.  “Kept my eyes shut if it makes you feel any better.”</p>
<p>Ten years was really too long to feel embarrassed.  Maybe if Noct were here.  Instead, Ignis felt a wave of sadness, that much of that night and conversation—as much as he’d tried to cling to the memory of it—had been dulled by the passage of time.  He remembered what they’d talked about, no longer the specific words.  He couldn’t know if he truly remembered, or only imagined, what it felt like when Noct kissed him.</p>
<p>“…I should have told all of you,” Ignis whispered.  “There was time on the train.”</p>
<p>Gladio snorted.  “Think that if you want.  Dunno how many of us would’ve listened.  Back then.”  His voice was tinged with regrets of his own.</p>
<p>Maybe so…</p>
<p>Gunshots rang out, blisteringly sharp in the silence.  Ignis spun towards the sound, hackles raised.  “Prompto?”</p>
<p>“Relax, I can see him from here.  It’s just a necromancer and a couple little guys.  I’ll keep an eye on him.”</p>
<p>“…Ah.”  Some of the tension loosened in Ignis’s shoulders, not nearly all.  The guilt remained, gnawing at him.</p>
<p>As Gladio stayed at the edge of the haven, Ignis tended the fire and sat down again beside it.  He rested his elbows on his knees, head bowed, and summoned his daggers from the Armiger, just to feel them.</p>
<p>…It was a while—a few hours or so—before Ignis finally heard the pattern of Prompto’s footsteps approaching them.</p>
<p>He stood, driven to his feet, the remorse burning in his chest.  “Prompto, allow me to—”</p>
<p>“I don’t want your apology.”</p>
<p>Ignis’s mouth snapped closed.  He could feel the weight of Prompto’s glare fixed on him, as hard and sharp as his voice.</p>
<p>“<em>Tell me you have a plan</em>.”</p>
<p>His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.  He couldn’t lie.  “I don’t,” he said.  “Not yet.”</p>
<p>“But you <em>will</em>,” Prompto said.  Not a question—a certainty.  “Like you said, there’s time.”</p>
<p>And Ignis felt it—a fire not unlike the ring that blinded him, sparking into flames beneath his skin.  Determination <em>surged</em> through his veins, propelled by each heartbeat to his extremities, fueling him from within.  “I will,” he said, nearly shaking.  <em>Astrals</em>. </p>
<p>
  <em>I will, or I will die, trying.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They spent a week on the western edge of Leide, between Keycatrich Ruins and the new Prairie Outpost, exterminating daemons for hours by ‘day’ and huddling around their campfire each night, talking between bursts of fitful sleep.  Ignis shared all he’d learned about the Prophecy, from his vision and the books he and Talcott had found.  They talked about the tombs, the ruins, the royal arms, Providence and the Six, and every scrap of intel they’d been able to uncover regarding whoever and whatever Ardyn was.  It felt futile, more often than not.  That they didn’t have the power to take on Ardyn themselves was clear.  But at least the others now had the same information he did.  Perhaps they’d see something he’d missed.</p><p>Ignis’s dreams didn’t stop.  If anything, they only became more vivid and more frequent.  Zegnautus…the Crystal…the throne room, without fail.  He finally summoned the courage to talk about what he saw.</p><p>“That’s how he’s gonna die?” Prompto asked, his voice rising, sharp with pain.  “His own father’s sword?”</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.”  Gladio struck rock—with his fist perhaps—and grunted.  “You’d think King Regis would have something to say about it.”</p><p>“He must have known.”  Ignis shook his head.  “If you consider how much the king insisted on Noct living a normal life, given freedoms no other heir has had in recent Lucian history.”  King Regis had been ever so indulgent with his son when it came to any sort of preparation to rule.</p><p>“You’ve worn the ring,” Prompto said.  “Can’t you, like, conjure up some of these kings and queens of old and let’s, you know, chat with them a bit?”</p><p>Ignis smiled despite the heaviness weighing on his shoulders.  “If that worked, I assure you, I would have done it.  At most, I…”  He straightened, spreading his hands with his palms towards the sky and silently <em>asking</em>—</p><p>The katana materialized, laid out horizontal across his hands.</p><p>Prompto whistled low.</p><p>“<em>Ballsy</em>.”  Gladio half-coughed, half-laughed.  “What happened to you after you put on the ring?”</p><p>“It’s called desperation.”  Ignis bowed his head in a silent ‘thank you’ and let the royal arm return to the Armiger.</p><p>“OK.”  Prompto shifted.  “OK, like, please don’t smite me.  But, um—”</p><p>There was a pause, a rushing of air, the sizzle of magic—and then—</p><p>“<em>Dude</em>.”</p><p>Ignis caught a whiff of steel.</p><p>“Queen Rogue, I am <em>in love with you</em>,” Prompto sing-songed the words, then grunted.  “Heavy, though.  Wow.”</p><p>Ignis leaned forward.  “The Star of the Rogue, truly?”</p><p>“Don’t press your luck,” Gladio said.  “That queen wasn’t known to have a lot of friends.”</p><p>“Right.”  Prompto cleared his throat.  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said.  There was another tinkling of magic, the sound of the glaive returning to the Armiger.  “<em>Holy shit</em>,” Prompto whispered.  “Gladio, you next!”</p><p>“Uh-uh.”  Leather squeaked; Ignis imagined him folding his arms.  “If the two of you can do it, I trust I can too.  I don’t need to prove it, or risk pissing off any kings or queens tonight.  Besides…”  Gladio sighed.  “Don’t see how it helps us.”</p><p>“Oh, come on—”</p><p>“No, I believe Gladio’s right,” Ignis said.  “Since Noct—”</p><p>A dog’s bark, sharp and familiar, interrupted.  Ignis’s heart leapt into his throat.  The others got up.</p><p>“Umbra!”  Prompto moved off and came back, accompanied by the click of dog’s paws on the haven’s stone.  “How’re you doing, buddy?  It’s been a while.”</p><p>Umbra’s tail whacked the ground happily—Prompto was scratching him behind the ears, most likely.  Ignis fought to breathe—slow breaths, in and out…  The Messenger had been around throughout the Night, in Lestallum, Hammerhead, at random places all throughout Lucis.  His appearance now didn’t necessarily mean anything.</p><p>Pity Ignis’s heart couldn’t seem to agree, pounding in his chest.  The blood in his veins felt thick.  He managed to swallow.  “Is there a message?” he asked, his voice sounding abnormally hoarse.</p><p>“Lemme check.”  Umbra’s satchel rustled as Prompto reached inside…there was a crinkle of paper unfolding…  “It’s just the same one we put there, ages ago.  About meeting in Hammerhead.”</p><p>Ignis exhaled.  “I see.”</p><p>“What do you think, Umbra?” Prompto asked.  “Can you tell us how to bring back the sun and save Noct, too?”</p><p>They waited in silence.  Ignis counted off at least thirty seconds to the continued crackle of the fire.</p><p>“I…don’t suppose he’s doing anything,” he said, at length.</p><p>“…Nope,” Gladio said.  “Just dog things.”</p><p>“Worth a try,” Prompto said.  “So what’s up?  Got something you need us to do?  Some big baddies to take care of?”</p><p>Umbra made a little whining sound and settled down, resting his head on Ignis’s left knee.</p><p>“Maybe it’s just nap time,” Gladio said.</p><p>Ignis drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Or perhaps he misses his master as much as we do.”  He reached out, giving Umbra a little scratch behind the ears.</p><p>Umbra nosed into Ignis’s palm, licking the bit of his thumb not covered by his glove.</p><p><em>I’ll take that as a yes.</em>  As Ignis withdrew his hand, Umbra yawned and stretched out alongside him.  “It has gotten late, hasn’t it?”</p><p>There was a brief rummaging sound.  “Past two in the morning,” Gladio said.</p><p>“Didn’t even notice.”  Prompto sat down again.  “Guess we should call it a night, huh?”</p><p>“Indeed.”</p><p>They pulled mats and blankets from the Armiger and settled in around the fire.  Ignis folded his visor and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket before lying down on his back.  He gazed up into the black of his vision with the glow of the campfire on his right—a dim flicker on the edge of his sight.</p><p><em>Next stop, Zegnautus Keep, most likely</em>.  He closed his eyes.</p><p>But he didn’t dream that night, at least, not of anything he could remember in the morning.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Umbra was no longer by Ignis’s side when he woke up.  It was past nine according to his phone and despite him turning the volume down, the sound of its readout caused his companions to stir.  Ignis donned his visor and his jacket, moving cautiously as he got up so as not to run into the others, or Umbra if he’d relocated during the night.</p><p>After he’d freshened up a bit—and shaved—Ignis set up his cookware, pulling from their rations in the Armiger to make a bit of breakfast for them.  He quietly relished the familiarity of old routines, and had all week long, even if he still caught himself reaching for four plates instead of three, sharpening the ever-present ache in his chest as he dismissed the unneeded place setting back into the ether. </p><p>“Oh, smells great, Iggy.”  Prompto stifled a yawn, his joints popping audibly as he stretched.  “Aww…no doggo.”</p><p>“Back to making the rounds, most likely,” Ignis said as he scooped breakfast onto plates, one at a time.</p><p>Gladio made a thoughtful sound.  He stood up and cracked his neck.  “We should too, probably.”</p><p>Ignis smiled sadly.  <em>Yes, about that time, isn’t it?</em></p><p>Prompto inhaled sharply.  “But—”</p><p>“Look, I’m not saying we won’t talk about this more.  But there’re things I gotta catch up on.”</p><p>“Catch up <em>with</em>,” Ignis murmured, rounding his cooking stove with plates and utensils.  He stopped in the vicinity of Gladio’s voice.  “Like your mystery lady friend in Lestallum.”</p><p>Gladio made a soft noise of irritation, taking a plate from Ignis’s hand.</p><p>“Dude, you gotta introduce us.  It’s been, like, <em>years</em>.”</p><p>Ignis followed Prompto’s voice around the fire.  “It <em>is</em> sounding rather serious.”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “Like you can talk, Prompto.  You’ve been texting you-know-who hourly since we’ve been out here.”</p><p>“I keep telling you, we’re <em>not</em> a <em>thing</em>.”  Prompto huffed, accepting the dish Ignis offered him.  “Thanks, Iggy.”</p><p>“My pleasure.”  He had his suspicions about Prompto’s not-a-thing person as well, though chose not to voice them.  He wouldn’t at all begrudge his companions whatever happiness they’d been able to find in days such as these.  As for him, despite the offers that occasionally came his way, it was simply not to be.  His heart was firmly, stoically, spoken for.</p><p><em>Love you, Specs.</em>  –Those words, he still heard clearly in his memories.  Even if ten years had passed, even if Noct had only uttered them once outside his dreams.  In all that time, Ignis’s feelings hadn’t diminished, even a little.  He would carry his love and devotion to his grave, and he would do so proudly.</p><p>After breakfast and dishes, they packed everything up and prepared to head out.  The three of them stood on the edge of the haven, Ignis listening to what awaited them in the dark given the various hissing, scraping, and squishy sounds.</p><p>“Uttu…black flan…and is that a tonberry, I hear?” </p><p>Gladio snorted.  “Need another chef’s knife, Iggy?”</p><p>“Could always use more cutlery.”  Ignis adjusted his gloves.  “Shall we?”</p><p>They’d only just reached level ground—the dirt road in front of the haven—and brandished their weapons when a flash of <em>something</em> in the distance caught Ignis’s eye.  It was a column of brightness, stretching from sky to earth, brilliant enough to leave a glowing afterimage against the blackness of his vision.</p><p>Ignis stopped, lips parting, his heart stuttering in his chest.  “Did I…”  He sensed the others, just as frozen, beside him.  “Did I just see <em>light</em>?”</p><p>“You sure as hell did,” Gladio said, breathless and stunned, clapping a hand firmly against his shoulder.  “<em>Come on</em>—”</p><p>They sprinted back to the outpost, forgoing the daemons, and found the place buzzing.  There was an utter cacophony of voices, multiple radios blaring, and Ignis struggled to filter out anything in the mess, until he heard one word that made his heart seize—</p><p><em>Angelgard</em>.</p><p>“Cor.”  Gladio was on Ignis’s left, presumably on the phone.  “Has there been anything from…  Nothing?”</p><p>Ignis’s mind whirled.  As much as they’d tried, desperately, to keep a functioning outpost at Galdin Quay, it had been lost to the daemons repeatedly and, as yet, had not been recovered.  As for maintaining a presence on Angelgard, they’d lost contact some time ago and their periodic patrols by airship hadn’t been able to get close to the island in months. </p><p>Well, the time was ripe to give it another shot.  “Prompto.” </p><p>“Uh, yeah?”  Prompto’s voice shook—he was just off Ignis’s right.  He sounded out of it.</p><p>“We need air support.”</p><p>“Right.”  Prompto sucked in a breath, seeming to gather himself.  “Right!  I’m on it.”  A moment later, he was on the phone as well.</p><p>What else?  Ignis inhaled slowly, ignoring the rapid thrum of his heartbeat in his chest.  They’d need eyes in the area.  Given how late in the morning it already was…  Ignis pulled his phone from his pocket, waking it with a swipe and pressing his thumb to the screen until he heard a quiet beep.  “Call Talcott Hester.”</p><p>He lifted the phone to his ear and listened as it rang—only twice—before there was an answer.</p><p>“Yes, sir.”  Talcott’s voice was tight, rushed.</p><p>“Where are you?”</p><p>“Near the Disc.  I—I saw.  I’m headed towards the quay now.”</p><p>Ignis nodded.  “Be careful.  Call me if—” the words stuck in his throat.</p><p>“I will, sir.”</p><p>Ignis returned the phone to his pocket, metering his exhale of breath.</p><p>The initial flurry of activity gave way to a tense period of waiting.  Ignis and the others huddled on the edge of the outpost, away from the radio chatter and endless speculation, willing one of their phones to ring with actual news.  The minutes felt like hours, the hours felt like an eternity.  Ignis turned down offers of coffee and other refreshments.  He hardly trusted himself to breathe, let alone eat anything with his stomach contorted into knots.</p><p>“It’s gotta be…” Prompto whispered, the only one of them brave enough to say it out loud.  “There’s just no way it isn’t—”</p><p>“<em>Don’t</em> jinx us.”  Gladio’s voice was low and gruff—an attempt to mask the anxious undercurrents that Ignis could hear, nonetheless.</p><p>The sudden chirping of his phone made him jump.  <em>Astrals</em>.  Ignis withdrew the device from his pocket, hands trembling as he swiped at the screen with his thumb.</p><p>“Speaker.”  Gladio pressed close on his left, Prompto glomming onto Ignis’s right arm.</p><p>“Right.”  Ignis breathed out hard and tapped the screen.  “Talcott.”  He forced the words past the fear lodged in his throat.  “Is he with you?”</p><p>There was a burst of static, and then Talcott’s voice came through clearly—  “Yes, sir.  I just picked up His Majesty north of Galdin Quay.”</p><p>“Yes!”  Prompto leapt at his side, jarring him, and despite being away from the others, a loud cheer arose from the hunters eavesdropping nearby.</p><p>Ignis chopped a hand for silence, drawing breath.  “We’re not far from Hammerhead.  We’ll meet you there.  He’s—”  He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his voice from shaking.  “He’s well, I take it?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.  He is.”</p><p><em>Of course</em>.  Ignis closed his eyes, moisture burning behind his eyelids.  “Would you put him on the phone, please?”</p><p>“Hm?  Oh.  Just a second—”  There was a pause, Talcott’s voice coming through quieter as he spoke to someone else.  “Said he wants to have a word with you?”</p><p>And there was the sound of a breath—familiar and warm, and a voice in the background, distant but unmistakable—  “He can have it in person.”</p><p>Tears flooded Ignis’s eyes, his heart lurching in his chest.  <em>Noct</em>—</p><p>“That snarky little—”</p><p>Ignis whacked Gladio in the arm.  <em>Shut it.</em></p><p>Gladio snorted, though it was clear he was fighting his own tears.</p><p>“He said you can have it in person,” Talcott said.</p><p>Ignis composed himself.  “That will be fine.”  <em>Better than fine.</em>  “We’ll see both of you soon.”</p><p>“OK.  We should be there shortly, sir.”</p><p>“Thank you, Talcott.”  He hung up and Prompto tackled him, sobbing against his chest.</p><p>“It’s him!  It’s really—”</p><p>Gladio gripped Ignis’s shoulder, saying nothing, inhaling a noisy breath. </p><p><em>Yes.</em>  Ignis’s breath shuddered out.  He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears still slipped free, sliding down his face.  <em>It’s really him.</em></p><p>-x-</p><p>They had a little time in the diner’s bathroom to freshen up.  Ignis washed and dried his face before putting his visor back on.</p><p>“Ugh.”  Prompto was at the sink next to him.  “It’s gonna be <em>so</em> obvious I was crying.”</p><p>“Understandable given the circumstances,” Ignis said, pushing his visor farther up the bridge of his nose.  <em>I doubt we’ve shed our only tears for the day.</em></p><p>Prompto fell silent, save for his fingers tapping against the porcelain basin.  “So much for a plan, huh?” he whispered.</p><p>Ignis exhaled and shook his head.  “One thing at a time.”</p><p>“Yeah.  Guess so.”</p><p>They headed back out into the main area of the diner-turned-bunker, Ignis taking a seat in a booth next to Gladio while Prompto, presumably, pressed himself against the window.</p><p>“Need anything?” Ignis asked, glancing in Gladio’s direction.</p><p>“Hmph.  For Talcott to drive faster?”</p><p>He smiled.  “With such a precious passenger, I think all caution is warranted.”</p><p>Gladio blew out a breath, leather squeaking as he shifted against the booth.</p><p>Ignis closed his eyes, folding his hands atop his knee and listening to the sound of Prompto repeatedly summoning and banishing his pistol.  <em>What a patient bunch we make</em>.  He didn’t fidget, but his ears strained for any hint of a vehicle in the distance—</p><p>He heard the telltale rumble of an engine just as Prompto shouted, “I see Talcott’s truck!”</p><p>Ignis’s heart hadn’t stopped pounding, but it redoubled its efforts now, tapping a fast staccato in his chest.  He stood, following Prompto from the grayish diner interior to the black night outside.</p><p>The truck came to a stop and turned off.  The door opened—</p><p>Prompto danced forward, light on his feet, before doubling back and grabbing Ignis’s arm.  “It’s him!”  The words gushed out.  “I mean, he’s older.  He’s got, like, a beard.  But it’s <em>totally </em>him.”  He let go, jogging ahead, and Ignis trailed behind, feeling like his heart might burst—</p><p>“Hey,” Noct said.</p><p>“‘Hey?’”  Gladio snorted; there was a bit of a scuffle.  “That’s all you have to say for yourself—after all this time?”</p><p>“Noct, it’s you!  It’s really you!”</p><p>“Is it?”  Noct’s voice was warm with mirth.  “I hadn’t realized.”</p><p>Just hearing Noct speak—<em>after ten years</em>—filled Ignis’s chest with emotion.  He barely kept it at bay behind a façade of composure.  “Well, well.  You kept us waiting.”</p><p>Noct exhaled, his footsteps approaching.  “Not like I wanted to.”  Then his hand was on Ignis’s shoulder, squeezing tight.</p><p>Ignis’s lips parted.  <em>Noct.</em>  He smiled.</p><p>“We’ve got catching up to do.”  Noct was slow to pull away; even then, a remnant of his touch lingered.</p><p>“Let’s head inside,” Ignis said, his eyes moist behind his visor.</p><p>-x-</p><p>On the surface with the four of them together, talking and bantering, it was almost like nothing had changed—as though the last ten years of war and loss were only a bad dream.  Noct sounded the same, laughed the same, but some differences were apparent—subtle yet audible to Ignis’s attentive ear.  An extra beat of silence, the wistful note on the end of a sentence, the determination in his voice when he spoke about Insomnia, of vanquishing Ardyn and taking back their home.  He talked around the light, the dawn, but the weight of it was there in the space between their words, unacknowledged, yet implacably present.</p><p>It was the same for the rest of them.  Gladio mentioned his girlfriend but not in any detail, Prompto refused to say anything about his not-a-thing person, and Ignis didn’t talk about his years of fruitlessly searching royal tombs and tomes for answers he did not have.  As if none of them could bear to face the pain at hand, burying it instead under nostalgia and the simple pleasure of being in one place again.</p><p>They didn’t tarry in Hammerhead—Noct was eager to move and seemed unsettled by the disarray of the outpost.  Ignis couldn’t entirely empathize, having been spared the sight himself.  But he supposed it must all be rather shocking to Noct, seeing the sudden change, rather than the gradual encroach of the night and daemons that the rest of them had lived through.</p><p>They fought their way east to the blockade, then up to the hillside overlooking Insomnia, where they’d taken in the sight of the fallen city, all those years ago.  Ignis didn’t know what it looked like anymore, though he’d heard the bridge was intact and that the city still maintained some power.  Ardyn’s doing, most likely, preparing a welcoming party for the rightful king.</p><p>“Well, fellas, we’re homeward bound at last,” Gladio said, retrieving something from the Armiger.  “Time to suit up.”</p><p><em>Ah</em>.  Ignis reached in as well, taking out the garment bag he’d carefully packed a decade ago, leaving the city.  It was supposed to be his uniform for the wedding in Altissia.</p><p>“Finally get to rock these threads,” Prompto said, accompanied by the sound of zippers and the <em>shush</em> of fabric.</p><p>“Wear them with pride,” Ignis murmured, running a hand lovingly over the leather cap on the shoulder of his kingsglaive coat.</p><p>Noct snorted.  “Yeah, just hope they still fit.”  Buckles and metal jangled as Noct took his raiment from the Armiger.</p><p>Ignis remembered the suit well—both from Noct wearing it in his nightmares, and for having steamed and ironed each piece himself prior to their departure.  No more T-shirts and loose leather jackets, Noct would look the proper king in his tailored black suit and tuxedo shirt, along with the cape, epaulets, and gold accoutrements. </p><p>If only Ignis could stop himself from picturing it.  Three buttons down the placket of Noct’s dress shirt—that was where King Regis’s sword would pierce him.  The fine, cotton broadcloth would be stained a darker black by the flow of Noct’s blood.</p><p>Ignis tried to distract himself as he dressed, though the image stubbornly refused to fade.  It was only when cooking that he was finally able to concentrate on something else. </p><p>To the familiar sounds of Gladio setting up the tent and Prompto and Noct ribbing on each other as they got a fire going, Ignis pulled ingredients from the Armiger, setting them in a precise arrangement around his cutting board.  Jabberwock sirloin, darkshell, finely ground Cleigne wheat, vegetables Noct wouldn’t object to, and Duscaen orange, fresh mint, and a bottle of cream—things he’d saved from the very beginning of the Night, preserved in perfect stasis in the Armiger.  And, that nearly empty bottle of vintage M.E. 735 red wine.</p><p>“Oh, man, I knew you were holding out on us, Iggy,” Prompto said, leaving the fire to hover over his workstation.  “Figures you had a stash in there somewhere.”</p><p>Ignis shooed him away.  “I’d hardly call it a stash when I only saved enough for one meal.”  Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it, given the immediate silence that followed, heavy and poignant.  But he couldn’t take the words back and there was no point in attempting to soften them now.</p><p>Prompto drifted off and Ignis went back to cooking, mounding flour on his board and creating a well in the center for the eggs.  He cracked them in, one at a time, slowly incorporating the flour and forming the pasta dough into a ball.</p><p>It was as he took to kneading, leaning on the board, folding the dough in on itself and rotating it forty-five degrees at a time, that he realized he had an audience.  It could only be one person.  Ignis canted his face in the direction of the gaze he felt and arched a brow.</p><p>“…Sorry, I—”  Noct sounded sheepish, caught.  “Is it OK if I watch?  It’s…really good to see you cooking again.”  His voice was soft, just to Ignis’s left; he was sitting just about where Ignis had supposed.  “It’s…really good to see you fighting again.”  His voice fell to an even quieter whisper.  “It’s really good to see <em>you</em> again.”</p><p>Ignis smiled, his chest filled with a warmth he hadn’t felt in ten years.  “Likewise.”  He continued to work the dough.  “I’ve planned this meal out over and over again, looking forward to the day I could cook it for you.  Hoping that I’d get to.”</p><p>Noct’s breath hitched.  “So you did wonder.”</p><p>Ignis shook his head.  “Your return was never a question.  Rather, it was whether or not I’d still be here, when you did.”  He didn’t see a need to mince words now, to be anything less than completely honest.  “<em>When</em> the Crystal would let you go.  Not if.”</p><p>Noct sighed, the sound leaden.  “Ten years…”</p><p>“Ten years and fifty-one days, but who’s counting?”</p><p>He snorted.  “I still can’t believe it’s been that long.”</p><p>Ignis placed the kneaded dough into a bowl and covered it, stashing it in the cooler for later.  Wiping off his board, he pulled a knife from the Armiger and set to work chopping.  “No calendars in the Crystal?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Or cellular reception, naturally.”</p><p>“No.”  Noct laughed, the sound bittersweet.  “I wasn’t aware of time at all.  Drifting from one dream to the next, or something.  I saw…I don’t know…memories of the old kings and queens, maybe?  Already I don’t remember much.”</p><p>“Well,” Ignis curled his fingers, slicing rounds of zucchini, “anything that was important, I’m sure the Lucii made sure you took with you.”</p><p>“…Yeah.”  Noct’s voice grew quiet.  Somber.  “Yeah.”</p><p>There was silence for a bit, save for the crackle of the fire.  Ignis finished the zucchini and began chopping an onion.</p><p>“…Specs?”</p><p>Ignis paused.  “Yes?”  He looked up, trying to imagine the expression on Noct’s face.  –Pensive by the sound of his voice, though, inevitably what Ignis imagined was a blend of Noct’s features—the youth he knew so well and the older Noct from his vision.  He waited, breath held…but whatever Noct was going to say, he didn’t.</p><p>“…No, never mind.”</p><p>Ignis didn’t press, going back to his chopping.  That familiar, hollow ache burned at his center, his eyes stinging from more than just the onion.</p><p>Noct got up, leaving his camp chair behind.  He came to stand on the opposite side of Ignis’s workstation and picked up the wine bottle that Ignis had placed on the far right.  “This is the bottle I gave you that one time?”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “Re-gifted, yes.”  He moved from the onion to strips of celery.</p><p>Noct snorted.  “Dunno what anyone thought <em>I</em> was gonna do with a bunch of fancy wine.”</p><p>Ignis smiled, old, treasured memories coming back to him.  “You did have a glass with me once.  Said you didn’t hate it.”</p><p>Noct made a soft noise, slightly embarrassed.  “The company was better than the wine.”</p><p>And Ignis was ever so conscious of how close they were, with only his narrow cook station between them.</p><p>Wine sloshed as Noct gently shook the bottle.  “Not much left.”</p><p>Ignis felt his face warm.  “An indulgence, I’ll admit,” he whispered.  “I poured a bit every year for your birthday, despite being terribly afraid I’d run out, before you came back.”</p><p>Noct said nothing, Ignis feeling the weight of his gaze for a long, silent moment.</p><p>At length, Noct put the bottle back where he’d taken it from.  “Makes sense to use it up, now.”  His voice was light, but the words sunk deep into the fissures of Ignis’s already broken heart, with finality.</p><p>“…Indeed,” he said.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The meal was wonderful, owing little to the food Ignis had cooked—though he took satisfaction in the others’ enjoyment, particularly Noct’s.  Collectively, wordlessly, they agreed to put everything else aside, to simply be together as dear friends, chatting about all things and nothing, just like old times.  Ignis treasured the warmth of the moment, wishing he could engrave it—carved into stone and preserved forever no matter what happened tomorrow.</p><p>But when the last of the orange cake and sweet cream was gone, when the dishes were cleaned and put back in their places, and the four of them sat around the fire with their chairs facing east towards Insomnia…they could no longer pretend that this was just another night on the road, the air between them hanging thick with the reality that couldn’t be ignored.</p><p>“So, yeah,” Noct said.  He was on Ignis’s right, an arm’s length between their chairs.</p><p>The fire popped and crackled, a vague flicker of lighter gray in Ignis’s vision.  He waited, breathing in the silence, tasting the smoke of the flames.</p><p>“I, um…”</p><p>“Out with it,” Gladio said, his voice rough because that was the way he kept his emotions in check.</p><p>Noct tried again.  “I just…”  He stopped and shifted, fabric rustling softly as he fidgeted, the sole of his boot scraping the ground.  “…Damnit,” he whispered, voice labored and obscured, not aimed their way.  “The hell is this so hard?”</p><p><em>Noct</em>.  Ignis kept still, feeling like his heart might bleed.  He didn’t breathe.</p><p>Noct moved again.  “So, I—”  He was looking at them now, speaking <em>to </em>them, and Ignis didn’t brace, even though he knew whatever Noct said would shatter him.  </p><p>“I’ve made my peace,” Noct said—strong and kingly and certain, and the words slid, like a sword, into the center of Ignis’s chest.  “Still…”  His voice turned strained.  “Knowing this is it, and seeing you all here, now—”</p><p>The tears welled and Ignis did nothing to prevent them or stop them as Noct’s voice quietly broke.</p><p>“It’s…more than I can take.”  The words were forced out, followed by a ragged inhale…  As if Noct were crying.</p><p>Prompto and Gladio sounded no different.</p><p>Ignis lowered his head, tears streaking down his cheeks.</p><p>“Yeah,” Prompto said.  “You’re damn right it is.”</p><p>“Huh.”  Gladio shifted in his chair.  “You spit it out.”  The pride in his voice didn’t hide his anguish.</p><p>Ignis rested his elbows on his knees, pressing his gloved palms together, breathing around the shards of pain embedded in his chest.  “It’s…good to hear.”</p><p>They sat in silence for some time, in the warmth of the firelight.  Ignis didn’t bother to brush away the tracks of his tears.</p><p>Eventually, Noct’s chair scraped back, his boots crushing grass underfoot as he stood. </p><p>“I need you guys to know.”</p><p>Feeling Noct’s gaze, Ignis slowly lifted his face.</p><p>Noct exhaled, his voice softening.  “How much I love each of you.”</p><p><em>Noct</em>.  Ignis swallowed hard.</p><p>“I never said it when I should have,” Noct whispered, his gaze moving on.  “But at least I can say it now.”</p><p>With his words hanging pendent over the fire, Noct turned and walked away, his footsteps receding, foliage crunched beneath his boots.  As if he couldn’t bear to see their reaction to what he’d said.  Ignis understood, pressing his lips against the onslaught of his tears.  Prompto tried to muffle his sobs beside him, and Gladio got up…  Ignis heard the tent flaps part and snap in his wake.</p><p>Ignis was, perhaps, better prepared to hear it than the other two, but that didn’t change how much it hurt, pain mixed with anger, mixed with sorrow, mixed with longing.</p><p>As the minutes piled up and his own tears eventually subsided, Prompto remained sniffling noisily to Ignis’s left.  He stood up, pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket and offering it wordlessly.</p><p>Prompto latched onto his arm with both hands, fingers pressing into his wrist, cutting off his circulation.  “Iggy, you’ll—”</p><p><em>Fix this?</em>  He said nothing.  He had hopes and wants, and neither of those things made a <em>plan</em>.</p><p>Prompto huffed a broken sob.  “…Right.”  He loosened his grip.  “I guess…”  With resignation came fresh tears, which he stifled—or attempted to, anyways—curled in his chair.</p><p>Ignis drew back, letting him be.  He left the heat of their campfire for the cooler night.  There was something of a breeze, not much, and though they were high above the water, he could hear the sea crashing on the rocks below, nonetheless.</p><p>The farther he went, the slower he walked, equally uncertain as to Noct’s location as to whether or not he should interrupt.  But Noct saved him on both accounts, when he spoke.</p><p>“You know, looking back…  It wasn’t all bad.”  He was facing away, gazing towards Insomnia most likely—the home they’d left a decade ago.  How innocent they’d been, back then.  Ignorant of being sent away to spare Noct’s life, ignorant that their journey was doomed to bring them here.</p><p><em>Still.</em>  “I suppose we had some fun along the way,” Ignis said, purposely keeping his voice light.</p><p>Noct almost laughed.  “And our fair share of trouble, too.”  He fell quiet again.  “But I don’t have any regrets.”</p><p>
  <em>Well, that makes one of us.</em>
</p><p>“Luna and you guys brought me this far, and…and now I’m on my own.”</p><p>The absurdity of <em>that</em>.  “Ah, <em>no</em>,” Ignis said.  “You won’t be going alone, I’ll—”</p><p>“No, you’re right.”  Noct turned to face him.  “I mean, I wouldn’t have made it all this way without you guys.”  His voice frayed around the edges.  “Why stop now?”</p><p>“Good,” Ignis said.  “Then I will expect no arguments from you tomorrow.”</p><p>“<em>Ignis</em>.” –His name, lathed with pain.</p><p><em>Noct</em>.  Ignis’s lips parted, he reached out—</p><p>Noct caught his hand, his thumb pushing hard into the center of his palm.  There was hesitation, two seconds’ worth maybe, and then Ignis’s king was pressed against him.  Ignis closed his arms, caging Noct to him fiercely.  Noct felt different than he remembered—his frame too slim beneath the fine fabric of his suit.  But he was still <em>Noct</em>, Ignis breathing in the familiar scent of him that he’d always known—lost to him for ten years and now tinged by woodsmoke.  He lowered his face to Noct’s hair, feeling hands grip the back of his kingsglaive vest, fingers digging into fabric.</p><p>For several heartbeats, they were tense and still, barely breathing.</p><p>Then Noct let go, his hands falling away and Ignis, with reluctance, loosened his arms.  Already, the sense of loss filled him up to his throat.  He patted Noct’s waist and ribs in a light, teasing gesture before returning his hands to his sides.</p><p>“The Crystal didn’t feed you.  Had I known, I would’ve made more for dinner.”</p><p>Noct half-laughed, mirth and sadness jumbled in the sound.  “Specs.”  He caught Ignis’s hand, pressing it tightly between both of his own.  “I love you.”</p><p>Ignis inhaled, gripping Noct’s hand in return.  “I never stopped loving you, Noct.  Not for an instant.”</p><p>“I know.”  Noct’s voice softened, his grasp relaxing into something gentler.  “I just…”  His fingers toyed with Ignis’s glove.  “I wanted you to hear me say it.”</p><p><em>One last time</em>.  Ignis saw blue—the vision, the throne.  <em>Noct</em>…</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Noct whispered.  “I can’t—”</p><p>Ignis shook his head.  “Please don’t apologize.  <em>You’re here</em>.  This moment is enough.”  It had to be.</p><p>Noct released his hand and Ignis’s fingers curled by reflex, chasing a fading feeling he couldn’t keep.  But instead of cooler air and space between them, he felt Noct step close, calloused hands alighting to either side of his neck, fingertips splayed across his jaw.</p><p>Ignis lowered his head, led by Noct’s coaxing touch and waited, his heart thudding in his chest, until Noct kissed him.</p><p>It was nothing like in Gralea.  The beard, which Ignis should have been expecting, was still a surprise, but more than that…  Where their last kiss had been a desperate fusing of mouths, this was entirely different—a light, lingering press of lips, all stillness and breath held—</p><p>
  <em>A goodbye.</em>
</p><p>Ignis didn’t breathe again until after Noct pulled away and the night swirled between them, swallowing up the warmth that had been his king, pressed against him.</p><p>He heard Noct sigh, the sound of boots on the grass as he turned.  “I’ll…be right there, OK?”</p><p>“…Of course,” Ignis whispered. </p><p>He withdrew—there was nothing more to be said—returning to the campfire and finding that the others had since retired.  The tent was quiet when he poked his head in, though by the breathing patterns, Prompto was the only one already asleep.  Exhausted by grief, probably.</p><p>“You’ll set an alarm?” Gladio asked.</p><p>Ignis nodded, moving to his customary place on the far left, opposite Gladio with Prompto and a space for Noct between them.  He knelt on the mats and took out his phone, having it quietly read out the current time.  “For eight?”</p><p>“Sounds good to me.”</p><p>He finished setting it and took off his visor, placing it and his phone just out of the way.  Then he stretched out on his side, facing the wall of the tent.  With a deeper breath, heavy and uncertain, Ignis closed his eyes.</p><p>…He stirred to the sound of the tent flaps opening, unsure of the time but assured of who it was, at least.  The tent zipped closed and he waited for Noct to squeeze in beside Prompto like usual and fall asleep faster than anyone had any business doing.</p><p>Instead, he felt a nudge to his foot—a signal two decades old—and Ignis wordlessly complied, rolling onto his back and opening his arms.</p><p>Noct crawled into the space he’d made, tucked in against him—half on top of him, really—with his arm slung across Ignis’s waist and his head pillowed on Ignis’s shoulder.  Ignis smoothed Noct’s hair, letting his hand fall to rest between Noct’s shoulder blades and that was all it took for his king to relax and go limp against him.</p><p>Noct slept that night; Ignis didn’t dare to, lying awake and counting the hours, and then the minutes, until the alarm went off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bridge to Insomnia was, at the same time, too long and not long enough.  Ignis felt an abrupt shift in the air when they reached the outer wall—the free stream of the wind over the sea cut off by land and structure.  They followed the freeway to the center of the city, their boots clicking on concrete in an eerie silence.</p><p>“Home sweet home,” Gladio murmured from Ignis’s left, nostalgia edged with something bitter.</p><p>“How does it look?” he asked.</p><p>Noct sighed ahead of them.  “Seen better days.”</p><p>“You can say that again,” Prompto muttered, a chunk of stone or busted road skittering away from his location.</p><p>“Once we take it back, we’ll rebuild it better than ever,” Noct said, his voice firm, full of kingly confidence.</p><p>If only the ‘we’ was at all convincing.</p><p>They fought their way towards the heart of Insomnia, gradually approaching the streets and thoroughfares Ignis knew like the back of his hand, having spent two decades of his life in the shadow of the Citadel.  The daemons were fiercer, their concentrations denser here than anywhere else in the Night, making it a slow slog, if marked by steady progress.  They took shelter when they needed to rest, and then pushed onward.  Unable to see the damage, Ignis still pictured the Insomnia from his memories, preserved in elegant lines and glossy surfaces.  A world long past…and his old self gone with it.  For all that he’d lost, Ignis didn’t begrudge the man he’d become since leaving.  It was a savage sort of irony that he could see far more now than he ever did back then. </p><p>Insomnia might have been the place where he’d lived and come from, but it would not be <em>home</em> without Noctis in it. </p><p>They were nearing the Citadel’s main gates, if Ignis’s memory served him, when Noct gently nudged his arm, steering him to the left. </p><p>“Can’t get through.  Road’s all busted.”</p><p>They headed down a side street, taking care of a couple of pesky nagarani that attempted, unsuccessfully, to block their path.  It was only a brief inconvenience.</p><p>“All of our old hangouts,” Prompto said, wistful, when the street was quiet once more.</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said, “and that place I used to work at, after school.”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “Scowling the whole time.”</p><p>“I smiled <em>occasionally.</em>”</p><p>It was rather rare, in Ignis’s recollection.</p><p>“Hey Iggy,” Prompto dropped back to his side, sounding amused.  “There’s still Ebony in these vending machines.”</p><p>“Truly?”  He arched a brow.  “And only ten years past their ‘best by’ date.”</p><p>“No good, huh?” Noct asked.</p><p>“As you might imagine, we’ve redefined ‘shelf life,’” Ignis said.  “All the same, I’ll pass for now.”</p><p>“Oh man, this one year.”  Prompto skipped ahead again.  “I brought a whole armload of cans back from Gralea.  Happened to be there for reconnaissance, you know.  Here I was all proud of myself for having the <em>best</em> gift for Iggy’s thirtieth birthday.  And you should’ve seen the look on his face when he tried one!”</p><p>“It was the sentiment that counted,” Ignis said.</p><p>“Only time I’ve ever seen you spray-spit anything.”</p><p>Ignis blushed.</p><p>Gladio laughed.  “Yeah, I remember.  Glad I wasn’t in the splash zone.”</p><p>“In my defense, the taste was vile,” Ignis said, adjusting his visor.  “And <em>both</em> of you agreed when you tried it.”</p><p>Prompto snort-laughed, his footsteps continuing down the street.  Noct’s stopped, Ignis sensing his glance back.</p><p>“Wish I could’ve been there.”</p><p>Ignis nodded.  <em>Likewise.</em>  He slowed his steps…and came to a stop beside Noct.  He could feel Noct still looking at him—studying him.</p><p>“Can you…sense light?” Noct finally asked.</p><p>“To a degree, yes,” Ignis said.  “If it’s bright enough.”</p><p>Noct exhaled, sounding relieved.  His voice softened.  “So when the dawn comes, you’ll know.”</p><p>Ignis sobered, all mirth from the previous conversation gone.  Yes, he’d know.  When the light returned, he would know he’d failed—that his king, the one he loved, was gone from the world forever.  “I should,” he said. </p><p>If Noct heard the defeat in his voice, he didn’t comment.</p><p>-x-</p><p>It took a good hour to cover a distance that should have taken minutes, making their way through underground passageways choked with daemons before returning to the surface just outside the Citadel gates.  They paused there, the four of them in a line in the street as the heavy aura of a daemon filled the air.</p><p>“Big thing blocking the road,” Gladio muttered.</p><p>Ignis heard wings and claws, a distinctive roar.  “Behemoth king?”  He glazed his daggers with fire.</p><p>“Only room for one king here,” Noct said.  He warped, and the rest of them rushed into the fray behind him.</p><p>The key to fighting anything as large as a behemoth or giant was to read the vibration in the ground and the displacement of the air.  Even before he’d been blinded, Ignis had relied on these signals in battle, as it was usually the tail or sword outside of one’s field of view that was the most dangerous.  He darted around the daemon’s legs, slicing into its belly before dashing out to the other side.  He felt the shock wave of Gladio’s greatsword swing, leveled at the beast, heard Prompto’s gunshots striking its flank, and Noct warping and slashing somewhere near its head.  Ignis lunged into a roll to avoid the heavy swipe of the behemoth’s tail and braced against a roar that froze the battlefield under his feet.  When the daemon’s magic faded, he zipped in again.</p><p>The beast was weakening, but as it did, its attacks grew stronger and frenzied.  It lashed out, stomped, reared up and crashed down on top of them with its heavy front legs.  The ground shook violently, Ignis thrown off his feet and though he attempted to twist in air to right himself, he landed on his left arm with an audible <em>crack</em>.  Gasping from the pain, he slapped the front of his jacket—breaking a curative against his chest—and staggered upright.  The magic healed him as he ran, fusing his bones back together and making the pain subside as he aimed for Gladio who lay groaning on the ground nearby.</p><p>“Gladio!”  Ignis dropped to his friend’s side, pulling a bottle from the Armiger and shattering it over him.</p><p>Noct’s magic took effect instantly.  Gladio grunted, his breaths easing.  “Thanks.”  As he got to his feet, Ignis rose and moved back.  He took a precious few seconds to swap a new curative into the inside pocket of his coat, to replace the one he’d used.</p><p>Noct’s voice rang out from his left.  “With me!”</p><p>Ignis’s heart fluttered, the borrowed magic in his veins stirring to a restless hum of anticipation.  He sprinted to Noct’s side, the three of them forming up beside their king, and reached up—</p><p>The Swords of the Wanderer solidified in his hands, buzzing with energy, a familiar resonance that reverberated deep in Ignis’s bones like the greeting of an old, cherished friend.  As one, they pressed forward and struck—four royal arms slicing into the beast.  The behemoth howled in rage, ichor splattering to the ground. </p><p>The featherlight swords vanished, the heavy Mace of the Fierce materializing next in Ignis’s hands.  He leapt up, raising the weapon above his head, and brought it down on the daemon’s flank with a satisfying <em>crunch</em>, the behemoth’s thigh bone shattering beneath the strike.</p><p>Ignis took one step back, the mace disappearing from his grasp, and reached for his left hip.  The Katana of the Warrior came to him, its lacquered sheath smooth and hard against his gloved palm.  He brought his right hand to its hilt, sinking onto the balls of his feet as a quiet, mournful sorrow reached for his heart, coiling and merging with his own pain.  Ignis closed his eyes, burning with loss, and slashed out in one motion—</p><p>The blade sliced through hide, sinew, and bone.  The lingering ring of steel in the air was the warrior’s anguish, echoing in Ignis’s ears and soul.  He twisted his wrist with a sharp flick, casting blood from the katana before he straightened up and sheathed it.</p><p>Noct, with his father’s sword, landed the finishing blow.</p><p>The behemoth heaved to the side and collapsed, the ground trembling beneath Ignis’s feet as its bulk settled and went still.</p><p>The katana returned to the Armiger in silence, though the grip of its sadness did not leave him, like bladed fingers squeezing his heart, burning around the hollow ache in his chest—the kindred <em>loss</em> they were destined to share.</p><p>The press of it stayed with Ignis as Ardyn taunted them, leaving them to the Inferian’s rage…as the three of them huddled over their king, shielding him from the fiery onslaught of Ifrit’s attack…  <em>If only</em>.  Ignis released Noct with reluctance, liquid searing his ruined eyes as he brandished ice on his daggers and dove into the fray.  This regret—this pervasive, bitter sorrow—would follow him to his grave.</p><p>There was a coating of dust on the marble floors of the Citadel entrance hall, slick beneath the soles of his boots.  Ignis remembered how the place once gleamed, how proudly he’d strode across this room on a daily basis, to and from the elevators in service to the crown.  There was always a hushed buzz of conversation, of reverence, even as the business of governance was carried out in every corner.  It was never this cold or silent.</p><p>“It’s all lit up,” Prompto said, going farther inside.</p><p>Gladio’s footsteps followed him.  “Think the elevator’s working?”</p><p>“Huh.”  Prompto’s voice came from the far side of the hall.  “Looks like it.”</p><p>The pressure in Ignis’s chest only increased as they rode the lift to higher floors and stepped out into a marble hall a short walk from the throne room.  His mind’s eye was fraught with blue, the remnants of his vision and dreams leaving his mouth dry and his stomach churning acidic with dread.  They entered a familiar room—a large and sacred place, the weight of the prophecy falling on Ignis’s shoulders from paintings he could not see.</p><p>“I always hated this room as a kid,” Noct said, a short way from him.</p><p>“Yeah?  And why’s that?” Prompto asked.</p><p>“Coming here always made my dad all serious and sad.”</p><p>Ignis would have hated it too, had he known then.  He hated it now.  “It no doubt reminded him of the fate his son would come to bear,” he said, not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice.</p><p>He felt Noct look at him.</p><p><em>Damnit</em>.  As if this was the way he wanted it all to end, their last conversations forever marred by his regrets.  Ignis gathered himself with a breath, working to lighten and soften his voice.</p><p>“I seem to recall a young prince leaving his mark on a painting.  Is it still there?”</p><p>“Don’t think anyone could spot it,” Noct said, his voice warm and fond.  “Had one of my attendants cover it up pretty good.”  He was smiling, Ignis was sure of it, the shared memory bringing a sweetness that soothed the pain, just a little.</p><p>They pressed on, the doors swinging open into the throne room—nothing more than a yawning void in Ignis’s vision, though he heard the others draw sharp breaths.</p><p>“What <em>is</em> that?” Prompto asked.</p><p>“I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” Ardyn said, his voice coming from above, projected down onto them by the acoustics of the chamber.  “The throne brings you here?  It seats only one.”</p><p>“Off my chair, jester,” Noct said, advancing.  “The king sits there.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>Noct</em>…”  There was a saccharine, false affection in Ardyn’s voice, drawing out Noct’s name with a familiarity he hadn’t earned, nor did he deserve. </p><p>Ignis’s limbs tensed, fire alighting in his veins.  He curled his hands at his sides, ready to summon his blades.</p><p>“How I have <em>waited</em> for this,” Ardyn said.  “Longer than you could ever know.”  He inhaled, theatrical as always.  “Tonight, the dreams of the blood royal…come to an end.”</p><p>Gladio snorted to Ignis’s left.  “Spite’s all that’s kept him going.”</p><p>“Talk about a grudge,” Prompto muttered.</p><p>Ignis exhaled.  “Ardyn sits the throne?”</p><p>“Not for long,” Noct said, his voice carrying the steel of all the kings and queens of Lucis.  “This is <em>my </em>ascension.”</p><p>Ignis smiled, calling his blades to his hands, ready—</p><p>Without warning, something struck him in the chest, tossing him backwards.  Energy suffused into his body and snuffed out his consciousness as he fell, weightless—</p><p>…He came to on the hard, marble floor, blinking, aching.</p><p>“Iggy.”  Gladio was next to him, helping him up.</p><p>Ignis swayed on his feet, keeping hold of Gladio’s arm until the dizziness passed.  “Where’s Noct?”</p><p>“Not here.”  Gladio’s voice was grim.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>.”  Prompto was on his right.  “Are we too late?”</p><p>Gladio exhaled tightly.  “Still dark out.”</p><p>The throne room was empty other than them, that much was clear.  A cold wind blew into the chamber, which shouldn’t have been possible.  “Is there a wall missing?”</p><p>“The whole left side of the room’s gone.  Beside the throne.”</p><p>Ignis breathed out slowly, closing his eyes as he concentrated on the sounds of the Night, of <em>something </em>in the distance...  “They’re outside!  Come on!”</p><p>They made their way back to the entrance as quickly as they could, the sounds of a battle raging in the sky above them as they reached the front steps.</p><p>“No way,” Prompto said, voice hushed.  “Ardyn’s got an Armiger.”</p><p>“Noct’s got this,” Gladio said.  “There’s no way he doesn’t.”</p><p>And them, helpless to do anything but stand by and watch…  Ignis ground his teeth, filled with a restless, consuming agitation.</p><p>It began to rain—large, cold droplets tainted with ash.  A familiar sound came to his ears—dimensions rending open in the circular drive at the base of the stairs.</p><p>“Small fry,” Gladio murmured.</p><p>“Might as well,” Ignis said, summoning his daggers, the three of them dashing down the stairs.</p><p>He kept one ear trained on Noct, always—to the clash of glaives and exertion, the chords of reality-tearing magic crisscrossing the sky.</p><p>Someone plummeted to the ground, landing hard enough to splinter the concrete—</p><p>
  <em>Noct—!</em>
</p><p>But the labored voice belonged to Ardyn.  “So…that is how you would end it.”</p><p>The daemon Ignis fought crumbled to the ground, vanquished.  He glanced around the courtyard, taking in the flickering, grayish light that surrounded them and the brighter glow nearby, not far from the source of Ardyn’s voice.</p><p>“Now it is over, Majesty,” Ardyn said.  “What will you do?  Banish the daemons and bring peace?  Erase me from history once more?”</p><p>The glow faded, rain drilling onto Ignis’s shoulders, soaking his hair.</p><p>“This time…you can rest in peace,” Noct said.  “Close your eyes, forevermore.”</p><p>Ardyn’s breath trailed out in a long sigh.  “I will await you…in the beyond.”</p><p>Silence then, except for the soft staccato of the rain.  Ignis heard Noct’s footsteps and went to join him.  The four of them came together at the base of the stairs.</p><p>“It’s…over?” Prompto asked, hope unmistakable in his voice.</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said.  “This is it.”</p><p>A lump formed, hot and thick, in Ignis’s throat.</p><p>“You guys wait here.  I won’t be long.”  He said it all so casually, passing through them for the stairs.  Two steps up, Noct paused.  “Take care of things for me.  And, be safe.”</p><p>The brief reprieve was over.  Behind them, Ignis could already hear more daemons spawning, breaking through the boundary between worlds, coalescing into the night.</p><p>“…Right,” Gladio said.  <em>Resignation</em>.</p><p>“You…you too,” Prompto said.  <em>Acceptance and sorrow.</em></p><p>Ignis’s lower lip quavered.  He set his teeth into it, biting down to the point of pain.  A tremor started in his limbs that he could not stop, a restless fury sparking into ardent flames, pushing up against the very limits of his restraint.  The dark ruin of his vision was filled with the Crystal’s blue light, with the silver glint of steel, with the ceaseless <em>red</em> of Noct’s blood.  <em>Damn it all!</em>  He would fail and live or he would fail and die, but he <em>must try</em>.  It was a driving force, an unignorable compulsion, burning in a rush to his hands and feet—</p><p>Ignis lunged forward onto the steps, reaching out to seize a fistful of fabric—Noct’s jacket—and from there, Noct’s arm—</p><p>“To the end!”  The words erupted from his throat, harsh and uncontrolled.  “<em>To the very end, I said!</em>”</p><p>Noct went still while Ignis shook—breathless and undone—latched onto his king.  Let the Astrals remove him, let the Lucii strike him down, Providence cry folly on his actions—he would not let go. </p><p>The others were silent and Noct, at length, sighed.</p><p>“Thought that was too easy.”  Noct returned to him, standing one step above.  His hand cupped the edge of Ignis’s jaw, his palm cold but thrumming with magic underneath.</p><p>As Noct leaned in, Ignis inhaled a breath and held it.  Their lips brushed, wet with rainwater.  Then Noct pressed their foreheads together, his hand cradling the back of Ignis’s head, and Ignis finally exhaled. </p><p>“I would have you stay here,” Noct whispered, their shared breaths filling the space between their mouths.</p><p>“I won’t,” Ignis said, his hand sliding down to Noct’s wrist, to Noct’s hand, interweaving their fingers tightly.</p><p>Noct drew a breath and Ignis braced for another argument—</p><p>“Can’t you two save it for later?” Gladio said from their left.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Prompto was on the right.  “Can we save the world first?”</p><p>Noct’s breath hitched.  “…Later…” he whispered, testing the word as if testing the lie.</p><p>“After,” Ignis said.  <em>A promise</em>.  He heard Noct swallow.</p><p>“OK.”  Noct drew back, keeping a firm hold on his hand.  “Let’s go.”</p><p>The daemons did not follow them inside.  They retraced their steps to the lift and ascended in silence, the elevator doors sliding open to the marble corridor that lay beyond, enrobed in stillness.  Ignis’s mind whirled with visions of the blue that awaited them—the ghostly, glowing forms of the Lucii bearing down on Noct, the royal arms slashing into him—</p><p>As they moved to step out, Gladio clapped a hand on Ignis’s shoulder, keeping him back, leaning close to his ear.</p><p>“What’s the plan, Iggy?”</p><p>Thank Providence, he’d always been good at thinking on his feet.  It wasn’t a guarantee of success, but it was <em>something</em>.  His heart stirred alive in his chest, the first bright pulses of hope as the idea solidified.  “Remember how I told you?  Twelve glaives,” he whispered, Prompto close on his right.  “Plus the king’s sword.  But there are <em>four</em> of us.”</p><p>“Three apiece,” Gladio said, catching on; Ignis could hear the smile in his voice.</p><p>Ignis blew out a breath.  “I like the math, don’t you?”</p><p>“<em>Hell</em> yes,” Prompto said.  “Let’s do it.”</p><p>“Hey.”  Noct’s voice came to them from up ahead.  “If you’re getting cold feet on me now, I’d be glad to—”</p><p>“You wish, Highness,” Gladio said, squeezing Ignis’s shoulder before he let go.</p><p>They caught up, Ignis quietly enduring the weight of Noct’s gaze, drifting from him to the others.</p><p>“Ready?” Gladio asked.</p><p>Noct huffed out a breath.  “Yeah.”  He turned away and pushed through the doors.</p><p>The throne room was still a black void to Ignis as they entered, following Noct as they headed for the stairs on the right side.  No blue at all, which cemented in his mind that this, finally, was real—not a dream, nor a vision.</p><p>They climbed together, Noct in front of them.</p><p>“I’m home,” he said.  “I walked tall.  And though it took me a while, I’m ready now.”</p><p>They reached the top, Ignis listening as Noct sat down on the throne as king. </p><p>“Dad…Luna…  Guys…”  He looked up at them, Ignis sensing his gaze.  “Thanks for everything.”</p><p>It was only right to bow.  Ignis curled his hand to his chest, standing at the left hand of Noct’s throne.</p><p>Noct blew out a breath and then came the distant, glass-shattering sound of his magic as he conjured his sword and stabbed it into the floor, marble cracking before the throne.  “Your hands to mine,” he said, and they gathered around him—Gladio to his right, Ignis and Prompto on the left, their hands covering Noct’s on the hilt of the sword.  “And for the love of God, <em>get down</em>.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow and knelt, <em>for now</em>, facing the room beyond the throne.</p><p>Noct lifted his voice.  “Kings and Queens of Lucis, <em>come to me!</em>”</p><p>Ignis saw a faint flicker in the dark, though whether it was real or imagined, he couldn’t be sure.  Not that it mattered.  “If you’d do the honors, Gladio,” he murmured.</p><p>There was a heartbeat of silence, then Gladio’s voice rang out—  “Incoming, one o’clock!  Sword of the Wise—”</p><p>“Mine!”  Prompto popped up, shifting effortlessly in front of Ignis.</p><p>“<em>Prom!</em>  What—”</p><p>With his free hand, Ignis held Noct back.</p><p>Prompto sucked air, a burst of light shattering over them.  He flinched back, gasping.  “Breathe through it, huh?”  He laughed despite clearly being in pain.  “Kinda burns.  Whew.”</p><p>“The axe is mine,” Gladio said, moving.</p><p>“Gladio!”  Noct tensed under Ignis’s hold.</p><p>Gladio grunted hard, the sound forced through his teeth.  “Oh yeah,” he said, after.  “It’s a good burn.”</p><p>“Mystic’s coming in hot,” Prompto said.</p><p>Ignis drew back, patting Noct’s arm as he got up.  “We’ll let you have this one, Noct.”</p><p>“The hell are you guys—”  Noct cut off with a sharp inhale, jerking back against the throne as the glaive struck him.</p><p>“Wanderer incoming, Ignis,” Gladio said.  “Eleven o’clock.”</p><p>“My thanks.”  He moved in front of the throne, squaring himself towards the gray glimmer he could just make out—  The swords caught him in the chest.  Ephemeral though he imagined them, it didn’t feel that way when they struck, slicing into his body and filling him with a burst of fiery magic that made every nerve ending shriek with pain.  He barely heard Noct’s anguished cry of his name.  The worst of the pain faded as he pressed back against the side of the throne and Prompto.  “At least it’s a brief sensation.”  <em>Not like the ring.</em></p><p>“Star of the Rogue, Prompto.  Get ready,” Gladio said, his voice labored.</p><p>“Yep.”  Prompto shifted to the front, allowing Ignis to brace him.  The queen rogue—a sliver of light—flashed towards them—</p><p>Prompto cried out, thrown violently back against Ignis’s chest and went almost limp, shaking in his arms.</p><p>This round was apparently worse, and when it was his turn again, Ignis knew why.  The Mace of the Fierce shattered ribs and left him wheezing, only Gladio’s and Prompto’s hands keeping him upright.  Their bodies simply weren’t meant to hold this much magic.</p><p>Noct took an arrow from the Bow of the Clever, his breathing labored, his hand shaking beneath theirs on the hilt of his father’s sword.  “<em>Guys</em>—”</p><p>“They just don’t quit, huh?” Prompto said, slumped against Ignis’s side, his voice weak and strained.</p><p>“Just a few more.”  Gladio sounded a little stronger than the rest of them, though no less in pain.  “Hang in there.”</p><p>They gripped each other’s hands, trembling.</p><p>In the third round, the last of the twelve glaives went to Ignis.  He staggered forward, allowing the Katana of the Warrior to slide into his ruined chest and splinter into shards of agony—a raging fire, consuming him from the inside.  Legs giving out, he fell backward, tasting blood, his hand coming loose from the others’. </p><p>“Ignis—”  Noct caught him, his body sprawled limp across Noct’s legs and throne.  Shaking hands pushed hair from his forehead, smeared blood from his lips.</p><p>“Twelve down…”  Gladio collapsed against the side of the throne.</p><p>Prompto was on the other side, his breathing slow, rattling.  “One to go.”</p><p>“You guys…” Noct whispered, his voice breaking.</p><p>With great effort, Ignis managed to twist, facing Noct and reaching up—  His hand fell short of his king’s face, finding Noct’s shoulder instead, his grip weak, fingers cold.  Burning inside and cold all over.  “I had to try,” he said, forcing his lips to move.  It wasn’t much more than a mumble.  “I love you too much…too selfishly…not to try.”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “He means ‘<em>we</em>.’”  He coughed, the sound choked with liquid.  “Do it, Noct.”</p><p>“Chop, chop, Buddy,” Prompto said.  “Dyin’ here.”</p><p>“<em>Not</em> funny.”  Noct pushed weakly at Ignis’s shoulders.  “Can you move?”</p><p>He couldn’t and didn’t even try.  “Not moving is kind of the point.”</p><p>Noct huffed out a breath, warm against Ignis’s brow.  His fingertips, trembling, slid down the side of Ignis’s face.  “For the record, I’m kicking all of your asses for this, later.”</p><p>Ignis smiled.</p><p>“Looking forward to it, Your Majesty,” Gladio said.</p><p>Prompto made a quiet sound of agreement.</p><p>Noct’s inhale was thick with tears.  “Love you guys.”  He rested his head against Ignis’s.</p><p>Ignis felt Noct’s arm move, heard steel scraping against marble…  The last sword. </p><p>“Dad,” Noct said.  “<em>Trust us</em>.”</p><p>There was a rush of wind, a fiery heat gathering beyond Ignis’s shoulder, a hum that built steadily to a whine—</p><p>Noct’s hand found his, their cold fingers clutching each other’s.</p><p>Even anticipating what was to come, there was no warning.  It happened suddenly, all at once.  Ignis felt the sword pierce his back, shoving him against Noct—</p><p>—and then, nothing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ignis was floating, weightless, in a gentle warmth.  He opened his eyes…and saw <em>colors</em>—soft magenta, swirls of teal, shimmering streaks of gold, and <em>blue</em> most of all.  He wasn’t alone.  Noct and the others were with him, and they weren’t images from his memories.  Gladio wore his hair half-gathered into a ponytail, with a trimmed beard along his jaw and more lines and scars on his face than Ignis remembered.  Prompto still looked young for his age and probably always would, a darker blond goatee on the tip of his chin.  They each wore their kingsglaive uniforms, the fabric pristine, the gold buttons and leather epaulets gleaming.</p><p>And Noct was beside him.  He was the Noct from Ignis’s vision—longer hair, the beard, the tailored black suit…and the Ring of the Lucii was on his right hand, light spilling from the shard of Crystal set at its heart.  Ignis could have gazed at him forever—would have, if given the chance.  Ten years he’d been locked in darkness, <em>ten years without Noct</em>.  It was almost overwhelming, seeing him like this.</p><p>King Regis was on Ignis’s right, hovering an arm’s length away, with his hair almost fully white and the crown above his right ear.  He wore the royal raiment Ignis remembered from the day they’d left Insomnia. </p><p>The five of them hovered in a line with Noct at their center.  Opposite them, Ardyn floated in the ether, wearing a smile and his usual cacophony of frills, offering a grand, sweeping bow in greeting.</p><p>Looking at him now, Ignis saw more than just the man.  He saw the Scourge, the darkness—the ichor bleeding from Ardyn’s eyes.  –The disease that had collected in his body for centuries—millennia?—and was now the blight of their star and its death; the source and sustenance of the daemons and of the Night that kept them from the Dawn. </p><p>Lady Lunafreya appeared before them—aglow in white—nodding with a smile to their king before she blinked out and reappeared at Ardyn’s side.  Golden light flowed from her body, surrounding her and then Ardyn as she grasped his arm.</p><p>Ardyn writhed and howled as if in pain, black ashes peeling from his clothes and body as the holy light of the Oracle’s magic trapped him in place.</p><p>And Noct thrust out his arm, the ring’s glow building to a brilliant, piercing white—</p><p><em>To me</em>—  Noct’s voice came straight to Ignis’s mind, as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud.</p><p>Mere thought brought Ignis close to Noct’s side, Gladio and Prompto with him, the three of them placing their hands on his shoulders.</p><p>Ignis felt a sudden, searing pain as the glaives he’d absorbed tore out of his body, bursting from his back—from all of their backs—like steel wings.  He grunted—though no sound came out—gripping Noct’s shoulder as the agony consumed him.  But in seconds it was over, his royal arms spiraling upwards in arcs of glowing light to join Gladio’s three, Prompto’s three, and Noct’s four.</p><p>The kings and queens of Lucis, towering and armored and blue, caught their glaives.  For one split-second, the Warrior King’s gaze locked with Ignis’s.  His ethereal form was covered head-to-toe by spiked plate armor, his shredded cape flowing out behind him.  As his hand closed around the katana’s hilt, the Warrior gave the slightest nod and Ignis, in his soul, instantly understood.  The Warrior’s sorrow had an end.  One way or another, Ignis’s would, as well.</p><p>He floated, watching, as the Warrior King charged across the ether with the other kings and queens—each of them driving their weapons into Ardyn’s body and shattering into shards of light.  King Regis, in his Lucii form—his armor gleaming and luminous, his raiment flared out regally behind him—was the last.  He thrust his blade through the center of Ardyn’s chest, time standing still for one pendent moment before his power exploded outward in a blaze of blinding <em>white</em>—</p><p>Ardyn—the darkness and the Scourge—disintegrated into shimmering golden pinpricks that vanished like wisps of smoke.</p><p>And just like that, it was over.</p><p>Ignis felt as though the last of his strength had left him.  The four of them were all that remained, drifting, their uniforms and Noct’s suit in tatters, their exposed skin gray like ash and burning underneath, fine cracks of glowing red covering their faces.</p><p>They clutched each other—eight hands tangled into a tight knot, skin rough yet somehow insubstantial—as if that would be enough to keep them from fading, to keep Noct from being taken from them.  The Ring of the Lucii went dark, crumbling and floating away from Noct’s right hand.</p><p>Noct looked at the three of them.  “Thank you, dear friends.”  He squeezed their hands.  “But this is where I leave you.”</p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p>“The Crystal will take you back.”</p><p>
  <em>Noct!</em>
</p><p>Noct smiled at them, love and tears shining in his eyes.  “Thank you for being with me until the end.”</p><p><em>Noct—!</em>  Liquid filled Ignis’s eyes, blurring the sight of Noct before him.  He struggled with all his might to cling to Noct’s hands, to hold him.  He hadn’t fought this long or this hard, just to “—<em>let some damn prophecy take you</em>.  If you think I’m going to buy all of that nonsense you’ve gone mad!”</p><p>Noct looked at him, eyes widening, clearly surprised that he’d spoken at all.  “Iggy…”</p><p>“Yeah!  Whatever he said!  I second it.”  Prompto tugged on their combined hands, floating closer to Noct.</p><p>“Make that three of us,” Gladio said, fixing Noct with a pointed glare.  “You’re outnumbered, Majesty.”</p><p>Noct huffed, looking at each of them in turn.  “You guys are ruining my dramatic exit.”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “Whose fault is that?  Should’ve gone after that cheesy ‘dear friends’ bit.  Why’re you still here?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>know</em>,” Noct said, the ash and reddish glow starting to fade from his face—and from their hands and arms as well—leaving normal skin behind.  “I thought it would just…<em>happen.</em>”</p><p>“Well, well,” Ignis said, pressing his lips, <em>unbelievably</em> pleased.  “Have we broken it?”</p><p>Noct glanced at him.  “You’re not going to be so happy if it means we’re stuck in here.”</p><p>Ignis shrugged.  “We’re together, aren’t we?  Could be worse.”</p><p>“Oh man, how long will it take us to go crazy?”  Prompto laughed.</p><p>Gladio sighed.</p><p>“No, you don’t get it—”  Noct cut off as the ether around them trembled, the colors and the light dimming, flickering, before coming back to full strength.</p><p>A new sensation—dread—woke in Ignis’s chest as they all craned their necks to look.</p><p>“Uh…  What was <em>that</em>?”  Prompto’s voice rose to a squeak.</p><p>“I was trying to say.”  Noct’s expression went grim.  “This is it.  <em>All</em> of the magic went to purging the star—the Lucii, the ring, the Crystal, the Astrals too.  If we don’t get out of here—”</p><p>Ignis drew a sharp breath.  “You’re saying the Crystal is dying?”</p><p>“Cute, Noct.”  Gladio scowled.  “You couldn’t have explained—”</p><p>“Like you gave me a chance!  Before you—”</p><p>The realm shook again, more violently this time.  The swirls of magenta and gold light winked out, fading to black.  Ignis felt something like gravity tug at them, as though they stood on a precipice over a chasm, swaying over the edge—</p><p>Prompto winced.  “Ah, <em>man</em>—”</p><p>“Here—”  Noct slipped his arms through Ignis’s and Gladio’s and grabbed Prompto; the four of them linked arms in a tight circle, gripping each other’s wrists.  “Hold on!”</p><p>They fell.  Ether rushed past them like air; Ignis’s stomach jumped into his throat, the sensation of freefall unending.  The teal whorls around them darkened and didn’t come back.  Only the blue light was left and it dimmed, rapidly.</p><p>Ignis’s muscles ached, but he had a solid hold on Noctis and Prompto, and on Gladio across from him—</p><p>Until there was a sudden, sharp tug that wrenched his right arm open, tearing Noct away from them.</p><p><em>“Noct!”</em>  Ignis reached for him—</p><p>Gladio lunged—</p><p>But Noct vanished into the blackness.</p><p>
  <em>Oh no.</em>
</p><p>“<em>Shit.</em>”  Gladio grabbed Ignis’s free arm, anguish carved into his features.</p><p>The three of them stared at each other, still falling, holding on as hard as they could.  Ignis’s insides twisted with panic and with a cold, icy fear, the same reflected on his friends’ faces.</p><p>It was his fault.  He was the one who’d insisted they try—  Ignis swallowed.  “I’m—”</p><p>“No.”  Gladio squeezed his forearm to the point of pain.  “We <em>all</em> decided—”  But he didn’t finish the sentence, yanked from their grasp.  Gladio’s eyes went wide, arms flailing as he reached for them, but he too spun out into the dark and disappeared.</p><p>It was only the two of them, now.</p><p>Prompto wailed, grabbing onto Ignis, pulling—  They locked their arms around each other’s shoulders, clinging fiercely as the blue light wavered and dimmed around them.</p><p>“Oh, <em>man</em>, this is it.”  Prompto half-laughed, bitter.</p><p>Ignis drew a sharp breath.  “Prompto, I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Nuh-uh, no regrets,” Prompto said.  “I knew there was a good chance we wouldn’t—”</p><p>He was <em>ripped</em> from Ignis’s arms, both of them gasping, reaching for each other—  Their fingertips scraped, but it wasn’t <em>enough</em>.</p><p>Ignis continued to fall, alone.  There seemed to be no end as he watched the blue shrink to a tiny pinprick above him.  Would it be like this forever?  Was this to be his fate, for defying the Hexatheon, trying to circumvent the prophecy?  He’d doomed them all.  The regret tasted like ash in his mouth, the tears stinging his eyes as he reached towards that last fading bit of light—</p><p>
  <em>I’m sorry, everyone—</em>
</p><p>Then it, too, went dark, closing Ignis into a familiar inky blackness.</p><p>He felt a shove—</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Steady…steady…on three.”</p><p>Noctis knew that voice.  <em>Cor?</em></p><p>“Ready…<em>now</em>.”</p><p>Agony <em>tore</em> through Noctis’s body and he screamed, though all he heard was a choked, gurgling sound.  Steel clattered nearby, something heavy and warm was lifted from him, and then there were hands touching him, multiple pairs, slipping under his body and pushing against his chest and <em>oh God—</em>  <em>Not there—please, not there—!</em>  Red spots danced across the white of his vision as he shrieked in his head.  Noctis coughed and gasped, struggling as they lifted him, tasting blood—</p><p>“Easy, Your Majesty—”</p><p>His body was unfolded, limbs stretched out onto something flat, strapped down, and a mask was fitted over his nose and mouth, cool air hitting his dry lips.  Noctis managed to pry his eyes open, peering blearily into a brightness from which shapes gradually formed…  Sky…the throne room…Cor…Monica…?</p><p><em>Blue</em> sky, <em>daylight</em>—</p><p>They were working on him on the steps, next to the throne.  Monica tore open his left sleeve and pressed against his elbow.  Her fingers were shockingly warm against his cold skin even through the latex gloves she wore.  Noctis felt a pinch, though it was hardly noticeable given the pain searing through the rest of his body—it was more of a distraction, a different sensation.</p><p>“…how…”  His voice was hoarse and cracked, partially muffled by the mask.  “…how…am…I…alive?”</p><p>“One thing at a time, Noctis,” Cor said, frowning slightly.  “We all have questions.”  Someone touched Cor’s arm and he backed away…</p><p>And then all Noctis could see was <em>Luna</em> leaning over him, backlit by the Dawn, the sunlight playing in her white-blond hair.  Her fingers gently swept his fringe from his brow.</p><p>
  <em>Am I dead?!</em>
</p><p>She smiled at him.  “<em>Noctis.</em>”  Her hands cradled his face as she brought her forehead to his.</p><p>
  <em>Luna—?</em>
</p><p>Golden light surrounded her, pouring into him, warmth suffusing into his cold limbs.  Suddenly he could breathe a bit easier, feeling stronger, the pain not as sharp as before.</p><p>Luna drew back, her hands resting on his shoulders.  “Your wounds are severe.  They will take time to heal.  You mustn’t rush it.”</p><p>Noctis stared at her as the words sank in.  So he <em>was</em> alive…  But the thought only made him anxious, his stomach clenching.  “…the others…?”  His breath fogged the mask.</p><p>Her brow creased.  “Worse off than you, I’m afraid.”  She glanced off to the side, down below, and he could hear more people moving around, talking, working—  “But they are alive,” she said.</p><p>Noctis sucked in a deeper breath of air—too deep.  He coughed, struggling against the straps holding him down as he strained for a look—  Sharp spasms of pain went through him, making him grit his teeth and reluctantly lie back.</p><p>“For now, you must <em>rest</em>,” Luna said, reaching to rub his brow lightly with her thumb, easing some of the tension gathered there.  “There will be time.”  Tears gleamed in her eyes as she spoke, and Noctis suddenly felt the fatigue of a hundred years pressing down on him. </p><p>He surrendered to it, letting his eyes close.</p><hr/><p>The next time Noctis awoke, he was elsewhere—a room with plain walls and a white ceiling.  He was lying on a stiff bed with a scratchy burn in his nose and all sorts of wires and tubes hooked to his body.  There were monitors and machines around him; he heard a steady, incessant beeping sound and, in the distance, a louder rumble.  The only lighting was dim, a pale green glow from the screens and some other light from the far left.  He struggled to turn his head, even the slightest movement bringing a sting that made his eyes water.  <em>Oh</em>—there was a tube up his nose.  Great.  He wasn’t in pain, though—he felt more of a fuzzy, floating sensation—which might have had to do with the IV in his left arm. </p><p>For a moment, he wondered if he were eight years old again, waking in the infirmary after the Marilith’s attack.  If it had all been a dream.</p><p>Footsteps approached—a man wearing a smock over his clothes along with a mask and gloves.  He carried a clipboard, checking the monitors and making notes before leaning down towards him.  “How are you feeling, Your Majesty?”</p><p>Noctis flinched away from the bright light the man shined into his eyes.  <em>Like shit</em>.  The only sound that came out of his dry throat was a croaking groan.</p><p>“Understandable,” the man said.  “I can adjust the dosage if you’re too uncomfortable.”</p><p>He managed the monumental effort required to shake his head.  “…no.”</p><p>The man nodded, taking another note.  “Let us know if you change your mind.”  He turned as if to leave and Noctis struggled to move, his right hand twitching against the bedsheets.</p><p>“<em>Wait</em>…where’s…?”  <em>Gladio…Prom…Ignis—</em>  His lips formed their names, though no sound came out.</p><p>The man glanced at him, but there was nothing in his expression—at least what Noctis could see of it above the mask—that gave him anything to go on.  He adjusted Noctis’s blankets.  “Rest well, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Then he was gone and Noct pressed his head back against the pillow, tears burning in his eyes.  <em>Damnit</em>.  Was it that hard of a question?  He could only assume it was bad, if everyone—including Luna—was trying not to upset him.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>His fingers twitched closed and he started, feeling something solid in his palm.  Noctis’s arm refused to move, but he ran his thumb over the smooth edges of the object, discerning familiar shapes—two long, pointed ears, a pert nose, a thick, curved tail—  <em>Oh</em>.  Something loosened in his chest.  Noctis closed his hand around the totem, feeling its warmth against his palm.  A quiet calm settled over him, sinking deep into his bones, and he knew it was OK to go back to sleep.</p><hr/><p>Noctis drifted in and out of wakefulness, dreams blurring into reality and into dreams again.  He thought he saw Cor and Monica…Luna again…the others…plus plenty of faces he didn’t know.  Sometimes he even saw Ardyn, or Bahamut, and wondered if he were still in the Crystal—if he’d never left.  Umbra licked his hand and nosed into his palm.  Carbuncle curled up on his pillow, whiskers tickling his cheek.  The pain in his chest rose and ebbed, at times sharp and throbbing, other times it was just a dull, distant ache.  There was a haze over everything, as though he were underwater, experiencing the world through a gently rippling veil, not unlike the magic in the underground ruins in Steyliff Grove.</p><p>At some point, he simply woke up, as if coming out of a long sleep.  Noctis blinked, shifting, free of the wires and tubes and aching all over.</p><p>“Welcome back, Your Majesty.”  Cor was sitting at his bedside, on the left.  The marshal looked like he hadn’t slept in days, gray generously sprinkled into his trimmed hair and beard, with new lines creasing his face.  He wore a black kingsglaive uniform that looked like it had been mended in a few places, though the buttons and buckles still glinted in the daylight streaming into the room from the window on the left wall.</p><p>“Cor…”  Noctis moved to sit up, wincing as every bone and muscle in his body protested.  Someone else was there—a nurse on his other side—and the two of them gingerly helped him upright.  Noctis tried, unsuccessfully, not to groan, sinking to lean on the stack of pillows they propped behind his back.  He lifted a hand to rub his face only to stop, startled, when he found a thick beard adorning his jaw.  “How…how long was I out?”  A horrible thought occurred to him, anxiously churning in his empty stomach.  “Don’t say years.”</p><p>Cor grimaced sympathetically.  “Two weeks.  It’s September twenty-fourth.”</p><p><em>Two weeks…</em>  Better than ten years, but—  <em>Damnit</em>.  Noctis pushed his hands against his eyelids, fighting a sudden wave of dizziness.</p><p>“Your Majesty?”  The nurse hovered on his right.</p><p>“I’m fine.”  He breathed through it; the feeling passed eventually.  Noctis lowered his hands, taking stock…two arms, two legs…check.  Bandages, plus some kind of brace, covering the gaping hole in his chest…  He could see the edge of the gauze as he glanced down his torso.  He was dressed in a robe, loosely tied at his waist, over a hospital gown.</p><p>“It’s not as bad as you’d think,” Cor said, following his gaze.  “Considering.”</p><p>Noctis huffed.  “I should be dead.”</p><p>Cor didn’t argue the point.</p><p>Noctis closed his eyes briefly.  “Where are the guys?”</p><p>Silence.</p><p><em>Not again</em>.  He fixed the marshal with a glare.  “I know I’ve been asking and I know no one’s given me an answer.  Just <em>tell</em> me.”  Fear grated on his nerves, his hands balling into fists, heart thudding in his chest.</p><p>Cor sighed, meeting his gaze firmly.  “They’re in the vault.”</p><p>“The—” the words got stuck.  <em>The vault…</em>  Noctis blew out a breath, inhaled, and tried again.  “Explain.”</p><p>“I can’t,” Cor said, his jaw flexing.  “If Lady Lunafreya were here, she probably could.  The most I can do is take you there, if you’re up for it.”</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>.”  Noctis pushed at the blankets, swinging his legs towards the side of the bed.  <em>Let’s fucking <strong>go</strong></em>.  He tried to stand, but his knees buckled.  Luckily Cor was there to catch him, to ease him back to sitting on the edge of the bed.</p><p>“<em>When</em> you’re up for it,” Cor said, keeping a hand on Noct’s shoulder to steady him.  “You should probably eat something, drink something…”  His lips thinned into a line.  “Believe me when I say they’re not going anywhere.  There’s no need to rush.”</p><p><em>Oh God, the hell is that supposed to mean?</em>  Noctis gritted his teeth, frustrated tears welling hot in his eyes.  “…OK,” he said finally, resigned.  “OK.”</p><p>It was two days before he was strong enough—two days of slow laps around his room and up and down the infirmary hallway with one of his father’s canes and frequent breaks for rest.  Two days of broth and soup and all sorts of mushy foods he hated but ate because they wouldn’t let him have anything else, and really—he was almost ready to eat <em>carrots</em> if it got him out of this damn room. </p><p>On the morning of the third day, Monica brought clothes for him—his own clothes, even.  Apparently the boxes he’d packed up from his apartment before leaving Insomnia had been in a wing of the Citadel that hadn’t been damaged.  Miraculously.</p><p>Noctis dressed in the tiny bathroom connected to his infirmary room.  It felt good to wear actual clothes again, even if it was just a T-shirt and some sweatpants—all black, at least—and despite the bulky chest brace showing through the thin fabric.  There was a thick, woolly cardigan in the pile and Noct reached for it, unable to recall ever owning a cardigan, until he pulled it on and realized he hadn’t—it was one of his father’s, musty and a little too big on him, and it still carried the faint scent of his father’s cologne.</p><p>And that, more than anything already, made him <em>need</em> to get up and move, else he’d likely end up curled into a ball on his hospital bed, sobbing.  The face in the mirror was a shock to him, every time he caught a glimpse, but he’d managed to suck it up enough yesterday to trim his beard to something less ragged, so he at least looked minimally presentable even if he didn’t recognize his reflection.</p><p>Cor was waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom.  “Ready?”  He held out Noctis’s father’s cane.</p><p>Noct stared at it for a moment, then took it.  “Yeah.”</p><p>The Citadel was busier than Noctis expected—not before-the-Fall busy, but there was a definite buzz of activity compared to how empty and abandoned the place had been when he’d last walked these halls in pursuit of Ardyn.  Besides the crownsguard, there were workers and hunters, plus a limited medical staff.  They stopped and bowed and called him <em>Your Majesty</em> when he passed them, and instinct made him want to turn around and look for his father.  Eventually, he’d have to get up to speed on everything that was going on, in the Citadel and throughout Insomnia, but not right now.  <em>First things first.</em></p><p>There was only one way to access the vault.  They rode the lift in silence to the 20<sup>th</sup> floor, then switched to a secured elevator in the center of the Citadel, ascending two more floors.  From there, it was a short flight of stairs up to the antechamber.  Noctis’s uneven steps echoed on the marble floor, the rhythm of his father’s cane bringing a bitter reminder of those final days, of King Regis’s failing health and the last time they’d spoken.</p><p>Daylight shone through the slat windows of the antechamber, dust coating the floor.  At glossy, armored doors, Cor swiped a keycard, permitting them access to the control room beyond.  It had seen better days.  A lot of equipment had been torn out and there were scorch marks on the floor.  Dustin sat at what remained of the security station, in the glow of the screens. </p><p>He stood and bowed as they entered, his fist curled against the front of his button-down shirt and waistcoat.  “It’s good to see you up, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Noctis nodded.  “Thanks.  Good to see you, too.”  He meant it, still unsure how many of those he knew had survived both Insomnia’s Fall and the ten years of darkness.  But he had no patience to ask questions now, waiting, hardly breathing as Dustin used a keycard to open the inner door to the vault.</p><p>The door swung outward…and Noct stepped inside, his heart lurching painfully in his chest.  Part of the circular chamber was caved in, though an attempt had been made to seal up the gaps with some paneling.  Daylight filtered in from a large hole in the ceiling above, the light softened by plastic sheeting that was being used as a temporary cover.  On the right side of the chamber were piles of shattered glass and debris, shards of the paneling that had once surrounded the Crystal.  The Crystal itself was braced on the pedestal it usually hovered over, emitting a weak, purplish-blue light.  In its shadow, on the left, were three cots with medical equipment attached, each with an utterly still form lying on top—</p><p><em>No—</em>  Noctis dropped the cane and ran, crashing to his knees on the glassy floor beside the nearest cot.  Gladio lay on top of it, eyes closed, motionless.  He was stripped to the waist with bandages wrapped around his torso and shoulders, leaving very little skin exposed.  There were a handful of electrodes attached to his chest and right arm, wires connected up to the monitor.  His face was relaxed, as if he were just sleeping, but his chest wasn’t moving.</p><p>“<em>Gladio—</em>”  The hand Noctis grabbed was warm—surprisingly warm and normal-feeling, but there was no pulse when Noctis pressed his fingertips into Gladio’s wrist.  He huffed a broken sob, gripping Gladio’s hand tightly between his own.  “Luna said they were alive.”</p><p>“And she’d have to explain it to you,” Cor said from behind him.  “Our physicians don’t know what to make of it.”  He paused, as if unsure whether or not to continue.  “We…only know that they grew colder when we took them from the Crystal.”</p><p>Noctis looked up at it, at the dying light spilling from its faceted heart.  He swallowed hard.  “Where is she?”</p><p>“Lestallum.”</p><p>Noctis reluctantly let go of Gladio’s hand, placing it back at his side on the cot.  He rose, knees aching, and went to the next—</p><p>“<em>Prom.</em>”  Noct’s eyes filled with tears as he sank down, taking in the sight of his best friend, so terribly still.  As if Prompto hadn’t been through enough because of him already.  It wasn’t that long ago—at least to Noctis—that he’d pushed Prompto from the train, that Prompto had been <em>tortured</em> by Ardyn all for the sake of ensuring Noct would come to Gralea to be trapped by the Crystal.  Prompto had fewer bandages than Gladio, but that only made his ribs look more prominent—whether from scarcity during the years of darkness, or from what happened in the throne room, Noctis didn’t know.  He held Prompto’s hand and squeezed it, failing to summon any words past the lump in his throat.</p><p>When he finally looked to the third cot, Noct’s tears spilled, his lips parting around a silent, choked breath.  <em>Ignis…</em>  His legs felt leaden as he forced them to move, dragging himself to Ignis’s bedside as the ache sharpened behind his ribcage.  There wasn’t any bit of Ignis’s torso that <em>wasn’t</em> bandaged and there was a mountain of gauze taped to his sternum.  Noctis stood next to him, trembling, his tears soaking into his beard.</p><p>“His…injuries are the worst,” Cor said quietly.  “We found him with you on the throne.”</p><p>Noctis closed his eyes, <em>unable to forget</em> the way Ignis had collapsed against him, refusing to let him go.  Never in a thousand lifetimes would Noct have agreed to what Ignis and the others had done.  And that was precisely why Ignis said nothing about it.  Noctis wasn’t <em>surprised</em>—it was Ignis who said things like, <em>I’d choose you over the world, Noct.</em>  Ridiculous, reckless things and he’d done it, choosing Noct over a world without him in it.</p><p>Ignis’s visor was folded on a tray nearby, baring his scars and his still-thin lashes on his left eye.  Noct knelt, slowly, bracing his elbows on the cot and taking Ignis’s left hand in both of his.  <em>Oh God</em>.  He slumped forward, his quavering lips against Ignis’s knuckles, his tears running through their fingers.  He felt the warmth of Ignis’s hand, but nothing else.  Once, they’d shared a ring, and Noct had watched the glow of the Lucii’s magic trace patterns on Ignis’s skin.  But the ring was gone, the magic was gone, the Crystal’s power was fading…  <em>What now?</em></p><p>
  <em>What am I supposed to do in a world without <strong>you</strong>?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How can I get a message to Lestallum?” Noctis asked, reluctantly leaving the Crystal’s vault with Cor.</p><p>They crossed the antechamber slowly—it was all Noct could manage, aching, exhausted, and emotionally drained.  He kept a firm grip on his father’s cane.</p><p>Cor hung back, matching his pace.  “We have communication by radio.  Everything else is still down.  We’re limited to essential services until we can get the main power grids repaired and back online.”</p><p>“Essential services,” he muttered as they reached the stairs.  It was sort of a question.</p><p>Cor arched a brow.  “You, obviously.  Your care and the necessary parts of the Citadel to support a staff and get a minimum level of infrastructure up and running.  We wanted to move you to Lestallum, but we weren’t sure you or the others would survive the trip.”  He exhaled.  “It turned out to be the right decision.  Lestallum is having enough trouble of their own, these days.”</p><p>“Yeah?”  Noct wasn’t really asking.  He was filling the space in the conversation with a socially appropriate sound to fake that he was listening when he really wasn’t.  It was a skill he’d fine-tuned during his teenage years much to his chamberlain’s ire.  Noct could clearly picture the look of disapproval Ignis would give him.</p><p>And that thought made everything ten times worse.</p><p>Cor didn’t say anything.  They proceeded to the elevator in silence.  Once there, Cor pressed the button and stood waiting with his hands clasped behind his back in perfect military posture.</p><p>That’s when the guilt got to him.  “Sorry.  I know I need to—”  Noct cut himself off with a sigh.  <em>Just let me talk to Luna first</em>.</p><p>“I know you’re not ready, Your Majesty,” Cor said quietly.  “It’s why we haven’t brought things up before now.”  The marshal looked at him, stony-faced.  “But we need you to be.  Soon.”</p><p>Noctis nodded, not trusting himself to speak, refusing to throw more empty words at the problem.  But acknowledging that Cor was right.</p><p>The lift arrived with a soft <em>ding</em>, the doors sliding open.</p><p>-x-</p><p>“We don’t have a lot of options for accommodations at the moment,” Cor said as they stepped out on the 40<sup>th</sup> floor of the northeast tower—a space typically used for housing foreign dignitaries and other guests, though rarely occupied in Noctis’s lifetime.  “Right now, this is the only tower with power and water.  Until we can assess the structural integrity of the floors above the throne room, we’ve got the southeast tower closed.  So that’s why we’re putting you here, for the time being.  Instead of the royal wing.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Noctis said as they headed down the hall, emergency lights casting a white and green glow on the black marble floors and glinting off the gold accents on the walls and archways.  “Anywhere’s fine.”  <em>Long as it gets me out of the infirmary.</em></p><p>Cor nodded.  “You have the entire floor, for security reasons.  Crownsguard are below you, and we’ve allocated space for a few important individuals—like Lady Lunafreya—on the floor below that.”</p><p>“…Right.”  It still took time to process—that Luna was <em>alive</em>, that she’d have an apartment two floors below his when she returned to Insomnia.</p><p>“Everyone else—workers, staff, hunters—we have in attendants’ quarters and the barracks, plus a few undamaged buildings near critical infrastructure.”</p><p>“Like the power plants.”</p><p>“Yes.”  Cor glanced at him.</p><p><em>I was listening, that time.</em> </p><p>Farther down the hall, Monica stepped out of a doorway on the left and bowed, the green light bathing her hair and kingsglaive jacket.</p><p>“We’ve made the apartment livable, Your Majesty,” she said.  “It won’t be what you’re used to, but—”</p><p>“Really, it’s fine,” Noctis said.  “If I can survive campouts on Cup Noodles, I can—”  As soon as he heard his own words, it brought a sharp pang to his chest.  <em>Yeah…</em>  He gathered himself with a breath.  “Thanks, I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“We’ll let you settle in,” Cor said.  “The intercom works; all three of us have transceivers.  So you can reach us whenever you need to.”</p><p>“Got it.”  Noctis stepped into the entryway, glancing at the panel on the wall. </p><p>“We’re serving meals at set times from the barracks,” Monica said.  “But I can bring something up to you.”</p><p>Noctis shook his head.  “No, that’s OK.  I’ll come down.  Just tell me when.”</p><p>She was frowning when he turned back.  “You shouldn’t push yourself, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Oh, I intend to pass out for the next couple of hours.  Don’t worry.”</p><p>“Very well.”  She bowed.</p><p>Cor reached to close the door.  “I’ll call when there’s word from Lestallum.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>They left…and Noctis breathed out a sigh.  Finally alone.  Not that he wanted to be alone, necessarily, but—  Those he most wanted to be with—those he <em>loved</em>—were lying motionless in the vault with the Crystal.  It hit harder now that he didn’t have to keep up pretenses, appear presentable and kingly, with no one bowing to him and calling him <em>Your Majesty.</em>  Now that it was safe to fall apart, his eyes burned and his chest <em>ached</em>—the residual pain from the wound was nothing compared to the sense of <em>loss</em> that seemed to suck the life out of him.</p><p>He leaned on his father’s cane as he moved through the apartment, barely taking in any of the furniture or fixtures through the mess of sudden tears.  He found the bedroom and the bed and sat down on the edge of it, intending to take off his shoes.  But there was morning sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling curved windows, bathing his city, the room, <em>him</em>.</p><p>
  <em>So when the Dawn comes, you’ll know.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I should.</em>
</p><p>His shoulders started to shake, a wordless, airless sob passing his lips.  <em>Guys—</em>  His father’s cane clattered to the floor as he hunched forward, hugging himself, gritting his teeth as the tears slid down his cheeks.  <em>I was never supposed to see the Dawn.  Especially not…especially not without the three of you.</em></p><p>When Noct could no longer hold himself upright, he slumped onto the bed on his side and wept.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The intercom buzzed sometime after he’d fallen asleep.  Noct rolled over with a groan, rubbing his too tight, tear-stained face as he slapped the control panel on the nightstand and noted the time—just after 11am.  “Yeah?”</p><p>“Your Majesty,” Cor said, “Lady Lunafreya will be headed over from Lestallum tomorrow.” </p><p><em>Tomorrow.</em>  He blinked, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling that was painted a soft, umbral gray.</p><p>“Also, lunch will be ready at noon, if you’re up for it.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said, a little more awake.  “I’ll come down.”</p><p>“Understood.”</p><p>“Thanks, Cor.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>Noct let go of the button, bumping a couple objects as he withdrew his hand.  He sat up, scrubbing salt from his eyes, and found his Carbuncle totem next to his phone and wallet—the only things he’d had in his pockets that day.  Everything else was in the Armiger.  And the <em>Armiger</em>—</p><p>He tried for one of his favorite fishing lures, imagining it perfectly in his head and closing his hand—around air.  Of course.  The Armiger was gone with the rest of his magic.  Should’ve thought that through, probably.  But it was the least of his worries, before.</p><p>Noctis looked around for a second, finally taking in his surroundings with a mess of blankets—black sheets and a purple quilt—bunched around his waist.  He was on the left side of a generously sized bed—it was a heavy piece with a carved headboard and footboard, plated with dark bronze and padded with tufted black leather.  There was a nightstand and a bookshelf, then the curved wall of windows framed by gauzy, cream-colored curtains.  To the right of the windows, gold-veined white marble surrounded an electric fireplace with a sofa in front of it.  The sofa had the same antique bronze finish as the bed, though the upholstery was velvet—a dark reddish-purple that reminded him of the color of wine.  Beyond that was a desk, the double doors that led to the hallway, a wardrobe with several sections, including two mirrored doors, and the entrance to the en suite bathroom.  The walls were a mix of wallpaper and matte colors—different grays with cream crown molding—and the floor was patterned marble, black with gold.</p><p>He hadn’t woken up to décor like this in years.  It almost made him homesick for his apartment, though he’d known he wasn’t going back to it, with its plain furnishings and modern aesthetic, and—more often than not—the scent of breakfast drifting into his bedroom as Ignis…</p><p>Noctis stuffed down a sigh and dragged himself out of bed.  He wandered into the bathroom, which was nearly as large as the bedroom, and blinked blearily at the deep soaking tub set in marble on the left, the ornate vanity on the right with dual sinks, lighted mirrors, and a modest few toiletry items, the glass-walled shower beyond…</p><p><em>Huh</em>.  He hadn’t had a shower since…?  Definitely not since Angelgard—scrubbing down with a bucket of water in the Hammerhead caravan bathroom didn’t count.  Not in the Crystal, or in Gralea, either.  So…not since the train, leaving Tenebrae?  <em>Gross.</em>  No wonder he felt grimy.  He’d gotten sponge-baths in the infirmary and it just wasn’t the same.</p><p>Noct peeled off the cardigan and hung it up on the hanger on the back of the bathroom door.  Finding the intercom panel nearby on the wall, he jabbed the buzzer.</p><p>Monica answered instantly.  “Yes, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Monica, am I allowed to shower?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said.  “I left the doctor’s discharge instructions on the desk.”</p><p>Noctis leaned out the doorway into the bedroom.  Sure enough, there were some papers on top of the desk.  “Sorry, didn’t get that far yet.”</p><p>“It’s alright.  The brace is for stability and for protection while you heal, though they said you’d probably need help getting it on and off, at first.”</p><p><em>Considering how much breathing hurts?</em>  Noctis grimaced.  “Yeah, probably.”</p><p>“Do you have a preference which one of us helps you?”</p><p><em>Yeah, Ignis</em>.  Noct pressed his lips.  Ignis <em>always</em> took care of him when he was sick—despite Noct’s protests and how Ignis usually caught whatever bug Noct brought home from school.  Every time Noct scraped a knee training, or even got so much as a papercut, he was there to make sure Noct’s injuries were cleaned and neatly bandaged.  And though Ignis fretted over him unbearably at times, Noct secretly liked it.  Especially when Ignis would stay with him while he slept and hold his hand or smooth his hair…  He never once heard Ignis complain about it, either.</p><p>“Whoever’s not busy is fine,” Noct said finally. </p><p>“I’ll be right there, Your Majesty.”</p><p>He buzzed her in when she arrived—a formality, given the crownsguard overrides—and perched on the edge of the tub as she unbuckled the brace and gingerly took it off him. </p><p>“It’s not pretty,” she said, politely averting her eyes.  “But it’s a world apart from when we first got to you.”</p><p>Noctis glanced down and…yeah…his skin was definitely <em>not</em> supposed to be those colors.  The wound had closed at least—now a thick line of smooth, pink skin at the center of his chest—but radiating outward from there were splotches of purple, green, yellow, gray…  He winced, fighting a wave of nausea.</p><p>Monica lightly touched his shoulders to steady him.</p><p>“I’ll just…not look at it.”</p><p>“Good idea.”  Apparently satisfied he wasn’t about to keel over, she stepped back.  “I’ll be in the hall.  Shout if you need anything.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Once she’d left, Noct finished undressing and eased himself into a <em>blissfully</em> hot shower, biting his lower lip to stifle a groan as the water pounded his sore muscles.  All of that fighting with Ardyn, getting knocked into buildings and thrown down on concrete…no wonder he hurt <em>everywhere</em>.  Washing his hair felt incredible—not that shampoo lather was anything that exciting, but it was <em>really</em> nice to finally be clean, even if raising his arms over his head brought all sorts of lovely twinges of pain to his chest.  Other than that, it was amazing.</p><p>After he’d gotten out and toweled off, he sat on the marble edge of the tub in his sweatpants and let Monica vigorously scrub his hair dry—since he wasn’t up to doing it himself—and buckle him back into the brace.  She left the bedroom so he could get dressed the rest of the way.</p><p>There were proper clothes in his wardrobe—blazers, dress shirts, slacks, suits, and T-shirts and jeans.  Most everything was black, some with subtle patterns—stripes and skulls and swords.  He picked a blazer-trouser combination in a soft fabric and a button-down to go with it.  Only flinching once at the sight of himself in the mirror was progress—mostly he just didn’t look too closely at his face.  But the clothes fit well, and with the pair of polished shoes he picked to finish the outfit, he looked the part.  Ignis would approve, probably. </p><p>Noct couldn’t hold back the sigh, that time.</p><p>Turning from the mirror, he left the bedroom.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Monica accompanied him down to the barracks on the north side of the third floor.  The dining hall was crowded—several dozens of people having paused work for lunch, seated at rows of long tables—and there was a distinct <em>hush</em> that rippled through the room as soon as he entered.  Inevitable, maybe, but the attention felt weird after so long trying to keep a low profile.  It was like walking into the auditorium on the first day of high school—<em>everyone knowing who you are, you knowing no one</em>—all over again.  Noctis continued into the room, nodding to those who greeted him or bowed, softening his face enough that he wasn’t scowling.  Kings didn’t have to be smiley all the time, right?</p><p>Lunch was a chickpea curry with vegetables and rice, with slices of pan-fried canned meat on the side.  The aroma of hot food and spices made Noct’s mouth water as he carried his tray to the side of the room where Cor had the last seat at one of the tables.</p><p>Noct sat down across from Cor with Monica taking the seat beside him—providing a subtle crownsguard buffer to give him space from the others in the room.  Gladio and Ignis would have done the same.</p><p>Well, Ignis wouldn’t have let him out of <em>bed</em> with his injuries, but—</p><p>Noct focused his attention on the plate in front of him.  Two bites in, he nearly groaned.  “This is good.”  <em>So much better than broth in the infirmary.</em></p><p>“I’ll tell the chef you thought so,” Monica said.  “She’ll be pleased.”</p><p>Noct sipped from his water glass.  “Where’s the food from?”</p><p>“Stockpiles under the Citadel.  There are others around the city we still have to assess.  But, fortunately, everything in the underground bunkers was still intact.  It’s mostly rice and canned goods, but we have enough to last a small population for a while without having to rely on Lestallum’s resources.”</p><p>Noctis nodded.  He glanced at Cor.  “You mentioned problems there.  I’m ready to listen.”</p><p>Cor wiped his mouth with his napkin and folded it, his expression turning grave.  “The meteorite shards are cooling,” he said quietly.  “Producing much less power than before.”</p><p>Like the Crystal…  Noctis winced.  He’d never thought about the connection much—lore was Ignis’s purview—but it probably wasn’t called the <em>Meteor of the Six</em> for nothing.  <em>Guess the Astrals really meant it when they shoved everything into the ring.</em></p><p>“They’re scrambling to find another power source, or figure out how to convert over to conventional power.  In the meantime, they’re trying to stockpile what fuel they can to provide emergency power to the city, not to mention the outposts.”</p><p><em>Shit.</em>  EXINERIS powered damn near all of Lucis, aside from Insomnia.  It was a much bigger problem than he thought.  “Can we send anything to help?” Noct asked, gathering another bite on his spoon.</p><p>Cor gave him a withering look.</p><p>“…Right.”  <em>We’re on reserves too.</em></p><p>“Three of our four power plants are heavily damaged.  Though we may be able to salvage their fuel stores in the meantime.”  Cor paused, his face grim.  “When we can get access.”</p><p>Noctis took a moment to chew, staring down at his plate as he mulled over the information.  How much he’d simply taken for granted throughout his life—that power came from an outlet, that water came from a faucet, that food came from the store.  <em>Really should’ve paid attention in those urban studies classes</em>.  “Are the experts still around?”</p><p>Cor sighed.  “A few.  We sent part of our survey team back to Lestallum to see who they could round up.  Fortunately, our forebears left instruction manuals lying around.”</p><p>Because they’d been at war with Niflheim for ages.  Because his father and grandfather had prepared for invasion, despite the Wall.  Noctis pushed a chickpea through a streak of curry sauce with the tip of his spoon.  “OK…”  He breathed out.  “So food’s not an immediate issue.  Power and water are priorities…  What else?”</p><p>Monica glanced at him aside.  “Priority is you getting enough <em>rest</em>, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“I promise I will,” he said, offering her what was hopefully closer to a smile than a grimace.  “I just…  When I’m not sleeping.”  Noctis looked down at his dish, trying to keep that cold, sinking feeling inside him at bay.  He swallowed with effort.  “I need to stay busy.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>After taking a look at a few of the undamaged areas on the lower levels of the Citadel—until he was too tired to walk anymore—Noctis napped until dinner, rather than risk Monica’s wrath.  Dinner was soup with rice—not terribly exciting texturally, but the chef made up for it with flavor, incorporating spice and heat that warmed him throughout.  He actually felt pretty good—a bit less sore, if still tired—but the buzz in the dining hall was on edge, jittery.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Noctis asked Dustin, quietly, as they left the room.  He shielded his eyes against the bright lights in the hallway.  Who’d turned everything up to ten, especially when they were short on power?</p><p>“Nightfall,” Dustin murmured, walking close at his side.  “Especially with the days getting noticeably shorter, this time of year.”  He paused.  “The daemons are gone but people’s memories aren’t.”</p><p><em>Right</em>.  “…Makes sense.”  He’d gone two or three days without the light—nothing compared to ten years.  After only two and a half weeks of dawns…it figured it would take some time for people to trust the sun to rise every morning.  Especially…  “Dustin, there were kids born during the night?”  <em>They must be the most freaked out of all.</em></p><p>Dustin nodded.  “Not many, Your Majesty, but some were.  They’re in Lestallum, in the residential areas.  We decided we wouldn’t allow families to return to Insomnia until things were stable.”</p><p>“But that could change.”  <em>If Lestallum’s power situation doesn’t get better…</em></p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Noctis remembered how Lestallum opened their doors immediately—not just when daylight started to fade, but also before that, when Insomnia fell.  Even though his grandfather had pulled back the Wall, leaving them vulnerable to Niflheim.  “I want to do everything we can to help them,” he said.  “They were there for us when we needed them.”  <em>It’s the least we can give back.</em></p><p>Dustin dipped his head, seeming pleased, the light glinting off his glasses and the bits of silver in his receding hair.  “Yes, Your Majesty.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>It was difficult to find a comfortable position to sleep in given his injuries, though it didn’t stop Noctis from passing out soon after dinner.  He woke, disoriented, to black outside his windows…and more stars than he’d ever seen from Insomnia before, with most of the city dark and without power.  The view drew him to the window and he pressed his palm against the cold glass. </p><p>They’d gone to the planetarium so many times, snuck out onto the roof at night, pretending they could see all the stars, not just the brightest.  –Fantasized about stealing out to Cavaugh as soon as Ignis was old enough to drive.  They would fall asleep, bundled up in the blanket Ignis brought for them, ears, noses, and cheeks reddened by the cold until the attendants finally chased them back inside…</p><p>They <em>talked</em> about the stars they’d see on the way to Altissia, but spent very few nights actually looking at them.  In retrospect, he wished… </p><p>He wished a lot of things.</p><p>Noctis swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, turning from the window.  From the couch nearby, he grabbed the robe he’d discarded earlier and threw it on over his pajamas, then donned some slippers.  He headed out the door—</p><p>Cor was standing in military rest in the hallway outside of his apartment.</p><p>Noctis peered at him.  “Isn’t it…?”</p><p>“Three in the morning?  Yes, it is.  What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Even Immortals need sleep, don’t they?”</p><p>Cor sighed.</p><p>Noctis headed for the elevators, Cor falling in with him in trail.  He didn’t ask any questions when Noct hit the button for the 20<sup>th</sup> floor.  Maybe it was obvious where he was headed.</p><p>Monica was on duty at the security station at the vault.  She set her book down and rose when they came in.  “Good evening, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Good evening.”  Noctis frowned.  “Really, though, are any of you sleeping?  You’re worried about <em>me</em> pushing too hard…”</p><p>Monica smiled.  “Dustin’s off shift right now.  And we did request help.  She should be arriving from Lestallum tomorrow.”</p><p>
  <em>She?</em>
</p><p>“Are you staying a while?”</p><p>The heaviness pushed down on his shoulders; Noct let out a breath.  “Probably.”</p><p>“I’ll find you a chair,” Cor said, disappearing back into the antechamber.</p><p>“Thanks, Monica,” Noct said, as she swiped her keycard, opening the inner door for him.</p><p>“Of course.  I’ll be here if you need anything.”</p><p>He nodded, stepping into the dim chamber lit only by the Crystal’s faint light and the glow from the monitors.  All of the lines were flat and it just seemed <em>wrong</em>—no pulse, no oxygen.  The only number that wasn’t zero on the readout was temperature.  But even that—35.1 degrees C for Gladio, 35-even for Prompto and Ignis—sounded <em>low</em>.  Hope felt like a delusion.  Noctis stood at the edge of the Crystal’s pool of light, gazing at his motionless friends.  There’d been no change from earlier.</p><p>Cor brought him a folding chair.  “If you want to lie down, I can find something better.”</p><p>Noct shook his head.  “Thanks.”  He watched Cor head for the doorway.  “Hey.”</p><p>Cor turned back.  “Yes?”</p><p>“If I’m here, one of you can sleep, yeah?”</p><p>A faint smile softened the clear fatigue on the marshal’s face.  “Don’t worry about us, Your Majesty.  But thank you.”  He stepped out, and the door closed behind him.</p><p>Noct slipped his hands into the pockets of his plush robe and settled onto the chair.  He looked at his friends’ sleeping forms—they were sleeping, right?  Just sleeping—and sucked in a thick breath, blinking back the sudden sting of tears.</p><p>“My turn, guys,” he whispered into the quiet. </p><p>And he kept watch over his friends until sunrise spilled diffuse light into the chamber through the ruined ceiling above.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A sound—a clatter of some kind—made Noctis stir.  He unfolded himself from the hunched position he’d slept in, wincing at the stiffness in his back.  Damnit, he always picked the weirdest places to fall asleep.  Never seemed to matter when he was twenty, but his over-thirty body was going to complain about it, apparently.  Even the floor was probably better than this folding chair in the—</p><p>In the <em>vault.</em>  It all came back to him in a rush and he burst to his feet, drawing a deep breath.</p><p>Noctis glanced at the monitors, glanced at his friends—but, no.  The sound hadn’t come from any of them.  They hadn’t moved since he’d first seen them and the numbers on the monitors hadn’t changed.  For a moment, he just stood there, looking around the otherwise vacant and silent chamber, listening—</p><p>There was a soft snapping noise from above—a breeze rippling across the plastic sheeting they’d used to block the hole in the vault’s ceiling.  <em>Oh</em>.  Maybe a bit of rubble had fallen, loosened by the wind.</p><p><em>Yeah, probably.</em>  Either that, or he was hallucinating—which was just what he needed on top of everything else right now.  Noctis sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face.  At least Luna would arrive today.  She’d have answers—she <em>had </em>to have answers. </p><p>He’d only just started for the door when he heard something else—the sound of some small, metallic object hitting the floor—and froze.  Definitely <em>not</em> ceiling debris and not his imagination.  He turned around…</p><p>A tiny object lay on the floor, glinting in the daylight not far from the base of the crystal.  It was golden yellow, smaller than his hand.</p><p>Noctis crept closer and recognized it instantly.  It was a fishing lure—a bird-shaped golden bomber lure.  <em>The heck?</em>  He crouched down and picked it up.  Why <em>here</em>?  It wasn’t like Gladio just dropped it.  He was about to get up when another sparkle caught his eye—</p><p>Nearby, almost invisible against the dark, glossy floor, was a blue dragon lure.  Noctis scooped it up, staring at both lures, trying to puzzle out any sense of their sudden existence—</p><p>—Right when something else dropped.  <em>This</em> time he was looking, this time he saw the faint shimmer in the air as the object materialized out of nothing and fell to the floor.</p><p>It was a fork—a <em>fork</em>—with a red enamel handle.  Clean, but so well used that the <em>Coleman</em> logo had all but rubbed off.  It had to be from the Armiger.  Noctis <em>knew</em> that magic to the core of his being.  Yet even now—he reached out, trying for a potion, a sword, anything, but nothing came to him.  Noctis frowned.</p><p>The vault door opened behind him.  “Good morning, Your Majesty,” Dustin said.  “Have you found today’s mystery presents from the Crystal?”</p><p>Noct inhaled.  <em>“Today’s?”</em></p><p>Dustin headed for the right side of the room, waving him over.  In the shadows, Noctis could just make out the outline of a cardboard box that he’d dismissed as debris the day before.</p><p>“It started happening about a week ago,” Dustin said as Noctis joined him.  He touched a panel on the wall, turning on a spotlight that shined down into the box. </p><p>Its contents <em>glittered</em>—fishing lures, coins, tiny chunks of prismatic ore, spools of fishing line.</p><p>“Every morning, there’d be a couple of these small trinkets on the floor.  We weren’t really sure what to make of it.”</p><p>“…Pretty sure this is stuff from the Armiger.”  Noctis knelt, reaching into the box and pulling out a couple of the coins.  “Things we collected on our trip.”</p><p>“You kept all this in the Armiger?” Dustin asked.</p><p><em>This is small potatoes compared to everything we kept in the Armiger.</em>  He glanced up.  “Yes?”</p><p>Dustin sighed, his forehead pinched.  “Your father did tell you to limit the Armiger to <em>essentials</em>, didn’t he?”</p><p>Noctis shifted his weight.  “Well, sure, he probably said that.”  He held up the items that had just appeared—the lures and the fork.  “I mean, eating’s pretty essential.”</p><p>Dustin rubbed a hand over his face, though Noctis was certain he caught the hint of a smile before he composed himself.  “Very well.  I leave this at your disposal.  Do you want these things brought up to your apartment?”</p><p>“Here’s fine.”  Noctis added today’s objects to the box.  “Especially if there’s going to be more stuff tomorrow.  Never know when a sword’s gonna pop out.”</p><p>“We’ll keep an eye on it.  Breakfast’s in an hour, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noctis said.  “I’ll go get dressed.”  As he got up, a thought occurred to him.  “Hey, maybe a strange question, but could we put some padding down?  If potions or flasks start coming out…”  The potions might still work?  Maybe not and maybe any elemancy would be equally ineffective, but he didn’t want to <em>accidentally </em>set off a spell in here<em>.</em></p><p>“Yes, of course.”  Dustin nodded.  “I’ll see to it.”</p><p>Noctis glanced at the others—at Ignis.  What he wouldn’t give for an elixir right now…  He absently touched the left side of his robe, where a chest pocket would be if he had one.  Instead, he only felt his brace beneath the fabric of the robe and his pajama shirt.  “Did you find any in Ignis’s jacket?  He always carried one.”</p><p>Dustin arched a brow.  “Potions, you mean?”  He glanced towards the bodies of Noct’s sleeping friends.  “We did find broken glass between the two of you, now that you mention it.”</p><p>“Oh.”  Noct’s shoulders slumped.  “I guess it didn’t work.”</p><p>“Or did it?” Dustin asked.  “You’re here.”</p><p><em>Yeah…I’m here.  </em>Noctis pressed his lips, his throat going tight.  He turned back to the box of things from the Armiger.  He thought he’d seen…</p><p>It was on the edge of the pile, on the right side—a glint of shimmering aqua, his gemlight Carbuncle lure.  Noct picked it up, the featherlight metal warming against his palm as he rubbed his thumb over a long curve of ear.  <em>Hi, friend.</em>  He carried it to the other side of the room and placed it atop Prompto’s vitals monitor, where it would be right in the middle of the three of them.  <em>Watch over them for me, OK?</em>  He backed away, breath held—scared to hope, but unable <em>not</em> to at the same time.</p><p>-x-</p><p>After breakfast, Noct had a check-up at the infirmary, the doctor confirming, <em>yes, you’re healing well—miraculously, in fact</em>—<em>but definitely keep the brace on for the time being</em>.  He napped until lunchtime, stealing back a few hours of the sleep he’d missed overnight in a mercifully dreamless slumber.  After, he took care dressing, swapping his black silk pajamas for a black suit and button-up dress shirt.  He combed his bedhead into submission, sighing at his still-odd reflection in the bathroom mirror.</p><p>The call came shortly after lunch—from the checkpoint guards directly to Monica’s transceiver as Noct walked beside her, leaving the barracks’ dining hall.  “Citadel, West Gate.”  The voice crackled from a device on the left side of her belt.</p><p>She reached for it, depressing a button with her thumb.  “West gate, go ahead.”</p><p>“We’ve just cleared the convoy from Lestallum into the city—”</p><p>Noct’s heart leapt as he listened.</p><p>“—three trucks headed your way.  Fifteen people, plus the supplies, as expected.”</p><p>“Thank you.”  Monica released the button, glancing at him.  “Would you like to wait upstairs, Your Majesty?”</p><p>Noctis shook his head.  “No, I’ll…”  He let out a breath that wavered.  “Let’s head down.”</p><p>She didn’t seem surprised at all, nodding in reply and smiling faintly.</p><p>-x-</p><p>It was the first time he’d been outside since the Dawn.  The sun was warm, the skies were a brilliant blue—no longer choked by daemonic ash.  The temperature was perfect for late summer, early fall—just the right side of balmy, not too hot, nor too cold.  And Noctis felt it afresh—the staggering cost that led to him being here now.</p><p>He could still remember the chill of the rain, the pain in his heart that he tried to hide as he turned to walk into the Citadel alone…  The way he only got two steps before Ignis—</p><p><em>To the very end, I said!</em>  —With fingers biting into his arm, Ignis’s voice shaking…</p><p>He should’ve said <em>no</em>.  But how could he?</p><p>If he’d been a stronger king, maybe they’d be standing here now instead of him.  The ache grew with each stone step he carefully descended, gripping his father’s cane in his right hand.  Monica walked beside him.  When he finally reached the bottom, Noctis stopped to catch his breath, running his hand over his collar and the lapels of his jacket, just to ensure he was presentable.  Not every day you greet a friend who’d come back from the dead after ten years…</p><p>“She just appeared?” he asked.</p><p>Monica nodded.  “Walked in with the Dawn.  It was quite a sight.”</p><p>There were so many feelings stirring and colliding inside him—anxieties, regrets, longings, and—  He didn’t know where to <em>start</em>, so he didn’t even try, just focusing on breathing as his ears strained for the sound of vehicles.  Within moments, he heard the rumble in the distance.  The gates opened, admitting three trucks—one smaller and two larger ones—that drove onto the bridge over the courtyard and came around the circular drive.  Noctis stood up straighter as the trucks parked at the curb.</p><p>The first person to hop out wasn’t Luna, but a dark-haired woman—</p><p>“Noct!”</p><p>He blinked.  “Iris?” </p><p>Her voice was the same, but he was still expecting the fifteen-year-old girl from his memories, not <em>daemon hunter</em> Iris Amicitia.  She’d only grown maybe an inch or two more, but he envied the muscle she’d put on.  Her red and black plaid tunic was torn artfully across the middle, revealing a flash of abs that were better than any he’d ever had—even back when Gladio made him do sit-ups every day.  She wore a black leather jacket, unzipped, and black leather pants with knee-high combat boots that looked good for kicking things.  Her dark brown hair was wild and loose and while he recognized her eyes, her face was older—all grown up—and it was going to take some getting used to.</p><p>Iris jogged across the concrete and probably would’ve tackled him if Monica hadn’t stepped forward.</p><p>“Lady Iris.”</p><p>Beaming, she came to a sudden halt, just outside arm’s reach.  “Right!  You’re a fragile old man, now.”</p><p>“Ouch.”  Noct snorted.  “I’m only five years older than you<em>.</em>”  She was kind of right, though.</p><p>Iris flicked hair over her shoulder—she wore fingerless leather gloves on both hands—and gave him a long look-over.  “You look good, considering.  The beard’s weird though.”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>.”  Noct found himself chuckling, which kind of made his chest hurt, so he stopped with a slight grimace.  “It’s good to see you too, Iris.”</p><p>“Well, you’re about to get sick of me, you know?  Since Monica asked me to help out while…”  She trailed off, her face suddenly falling.</p><p><em>Yeah.</em>  Noct let out a sigh.</p><p>“…I can see him, right?” she asked quietly, looking down, kicking concrete with the toe of her boot.</p><p>“Of course,” Noct said.  “Whenever you want.”</p><p>“Thanks, I…”  Iris blushed, half-turning and glancing back.  “Sorry, I’m kinda monopolizing him, huh?”</p><p>“It’s quite alright,” Luna said, her voice warm and accented and just as he remembered.</p><p>Noct did a double-take as she approached, his eyes widening. </p><p>Luna’s face was unchanged—she hadn’t aged a day, that he could tell—though she wore her hair differently, white-blond tresses gathered into a sleek bun, sans braid, fringe touching her brows.  All of that was familiar enough, <em>but</em>—</p><p>His breath stuttered out as he took in what she was <em>wearing</em>.  It was a tailored suit, Lucian black, complete with a perfectly pressed black button-up shirt and a black tie with a delicate sheen.  The only nod to the colors of her Tenebraen heritage was the cream waistcoat beneath her jacket.  The gold Crest of the Nox Fleuret house gleamed from her lapel.  Her tapered black trousers were ankle-length and she wore black leather shoes with a low heel.</p><p>“Noctis?”</p><p>Noctis caught himself staring, heat burning in his face.  “Luna.”  He shook his head, gathering himself.  “Just…never seen you in black.”</p><p>“Such a <em>dreary</em> royal color you Lucians picked,” she said, teasing him.  “Even if you’ve paired it with gold.”  She came forward, close enough to touch, close enough for him to smell the fragrance of sylleblossoms.  “Monica was able to find this for me and I’m beyond grateful.”  Luna nodded to Monica with a smile.  “That tattered dress of mine was hardly suitable attire, as you might surmise.”  As she lifted her hands, Noct stopped breathing, going still as her warm palms cradled his face and drew his head down to hers. </p><p>He closed his eyes as she touched their foreheads together.</p><p>“Blessed stars of life and light…”</p><p>The sweetness of her magic flowed into him, drifting throughout his body like the ripples of a pond or a gentle wave spreading across sand.  Some of the pain in his chest faded.</p><p>Noctis opened his eyes as she drew back, blinking at her.  “Your magic still works,” he murmured.</p><p>She frowned slightly, her thumb rubbing a crease in his brow.  “This magic is different,” she said.  Releasing him, she stepped back.  “Shall we go?  You have questions.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said, exhaling unsteadily.  “Yes.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>“Oh, <em>Gladdy—</em>”  Iris rushed into the chamber, collapsing onto her knees at her brother’s side.</p><p>Noct took each step slower than the last, guilt squeezing his heart like a vise.  It was his fault.  If not for him…  He gripped his father’s cane, lips pressed, trying not to shake.</p><p>There was a light, unexpected touch to his left arm—Luna—just the press of her fingers above his elbow before she went to join Iris.</p><p>Noctis watched from a distance as Luna knelt on Gladio’s right side, as she touched his face and leaned down.  Soft, golden light spilled over Gladio in shimmering spirals—five heartbeats or so—and Noctis didn’t breathe.</p><p>The light faded.  Gladio was still motionless.  Luna rose, saying something to Iris that Noct couldn’t hear. </p><p>Iris nodded, her face streaked with tears.  She slid down, closer to the floor, her head resting on Gladio’s shoulder as she trembled with silent sobs.</p><p>Noctis didn’t let himself look away.  He was the cause of her grief—two and a half weeks ago, Gladio had been fine.  And now…  If only he’d gone alone, like he should have.  It was the weak, human part of him that leapt when Ignis wouldn’t let go of him—that longed, selfishly, for their company just a little while longer.  But <em>this</em> was the result.  If he’d been a better king…  Noctis swallowed with effort around the lump in his throat.</p><p>Luna went next to Prompto, pouring her magic into him, and lastly to Ignis.  Noct hitched a sharp breath as her hand trailed over the bandages at the center of Ignis’s chest, as the golden glow of her divine magic enveloped him.  But there was no change…no difference that he could see on the monitors or otherwise. </p><p>She rose and returned to him.  “Their wounds are grave,” she said quietly, “but the Crystal’s remaining power is sufficient to heal them.”</p><p>Tears flooded Noct’s eyes.  “<em>How</em>,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “how can you be sure?”</p><p>Luna took his left hand, holding it gently between her own.  “Faith, dear Noctis.  Providence has not abandoned you, nor those who love you.”</p><p>Noctis choked back a sob.  It was a mercy he didn’t deserve.  He clung to her hand, feeling as she squeezed back.</p><p>“Come, let’s sit down.”</p><p>He let her lead the way out of the vault and down the stairs to the 22<sup>nd</sup> floor, to a sitting room a short walk down the hall.  Monica took up station beside the door, allowing them to enter alone.  There were two black couches with a low, glossy table in between.  Sunlight diffused through patterned glass windows, bathing the room in amber hues as afternoon gave way to early evening.</p><p>They sat on the nearest couch, Luna still holding his hand.  The touch was a comfort and a knife—soothing, yet at the same time cleaving him in two, splitting him open until the core of his grief was exposed, raw and aching and he could do nothing but <em>feel</em> all of it.</p><p>The force of it shook him—destabilized him—filling him with a restless, anxious panic.  It was too much.  Noctis tugged his hand away and stood, pacing, pushing hastily at his tears.</p><p>Luna stayed seated, her hands folded in her lap, eyes tracking him.  “You blame yourself.”</p><p>“It was <em>my</em> price to pay, not theirs.”  His hands balled into fists, nails biting into his palms.  <em>I never should have let them—</em></p><p>“The price?” Luna asked.</p><p>Noctis pushed air out through his teeth, shaking his hands to loosen them.  “The prophecy, the blood price.  You know it.”  <em>You’ve known it the whole time—all that talk of me being Chosen.  You never mentioned what it would cost.</em></p><p>“Yes, I know,” Luna said.  “I wanted to hear you say it.”</p><p>Noctis glanced at her, at her sober expression, at the sharp blue of her eyes.</p><p>“I wonder if you can hear how ridiculous it sounds.”</p><p>He frowned.  “What?”</p><p>“That after all of the blood Eos has shed.  <em>Rivers</em> of it, not only in the past decade, but for centuries, millennia—”  Her face hardened, an edge coming into her voice that he hadn’t heard before.  “—That any <em>more</em> ought to be demanded for the sake of healing our Star and restoring the light.”</p><p><em>Luna…</em>  Noctis inhaled slowly, blinking as she rose to her feet, all grace and strength and steel. </p><p>“A prophecy of the Astrals’ making, an attempt to right missteps from ages past.  For that, entire <em>generations</em> of our people were given to the Scourge and sacrificed.”  She stepped towards him, the dying sunlight painting her hair red.  For a split-second, he saw it as blood.  He saw her in a gown of white that bled red from the hem up to her shoulders—saw her in the Crystal, righteous fury flashing in her eyes as she stood before Bahamut, surrounded by the Hexatheon.  “This fate, for a people they were given to watch over and protect.”</p><p>The vision faded when he blinked, and Luna once more stood before him, regal in Lucian black.</p><p>Her eyes, meeting his, softened.  “I happen to agree with your Strategist.  So I asked the Astrals to reconsider their math.”</p><p>“You—”  He struggled to comprehend all that she’d just told him, the air leaving his lungs.  <em>You did what?</em></p><p>“They would have left us a ruin,” she said.  “A sunlit ruin, but a ruin nonetheless.”</p><p>The arm of the second couch was behind him.  Noctis sank down onto it, looking at her.  “When did you…?”</p><p>“Hmm.”  Luna glanced away, pressing her fingertips together, a thoughtful look on her face.  “Between when the Astrals gave themselves to the ring and when you used their power.  Time is different in the Crystal, as you know.”</p><p>It was, but…  He drew a breath and held it for a moment.  His heart and mind hadn’t yet caught up with the staggering gravity of her words.</p><p>Luna came to him, touching his shoulder lightly.  “I realize it’s not easy to hear, but please consider it.  Before you continue to blame yourself for being alive.”  Her gaze, warm and fond, held his.  “You’re here because one person believed there could be another way.  That <em>hope</em> is what Eos needs.  And not just for a moment.  The harder work starts now.”</p><p>As she withdrew, he stood, chasing her retreat.  “And why are you here?  <em>How </em>are you here?”</p><p>Luna smiled at him.  “Providence.  Like you.”</p><p>That didn’t really answer his question.</p><p>She turned towards the windows, the setting sun catching her face as her expression smoothed.  “Our people have been in pain for a very long time, Noctis.  For endless years, their prayers have fallen on deaf ears while the Six slept.  So most have forgotten that <em>Providence</em> is always listening, never ceasing to work, and never failing to love.  Our people are not alone.”  Luna glanced at him.  “And neither is their king.”</p><p>Noctis inhaled slowly, emotion stinging his eyes and his nose.  Because for all the power that had been channeled through him, he was still only a fragile, mortal container.  Was it any wonder that he should fail to carry the weight of the world and save everyone he loved, too?  Her words prodded at his guilt—the sharp talons that gripped his heart—prying the edges loose, just a bit…exposing his grief and his regrets, underneath.</p><p>Like Altissia.  Like the promises he’d made to her that he’d broken—how desperately he’d tried to protect her, and yet…  His vision blurred with tears.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t—” he whispered, swallowing a sob.  “I wanted—”  <em>I wanted to save you.</em></p><p>“Oh, Noctis.”  She returned to him, eyes gleaming as she wrapped him loosely in her arms—just the way she had when they were children.  “I know,” she said, smiling at him.  “I know you wanted to, even though it was never given to you to protect me.  It was always for me to protect <em>you</em>, my king.”</p><p><em>Luna—</em>  The tears rose in a flood and he couldn’t hold them back, this time.  So he didn’t, clinging to her and crying freely into the shoulder of her jacket, the weight sloughing off with each tear he let fall.  And the scent of sylleblossoms—fresh and vibrant and alive—surrounded him as she held him gently, her head leaned to his.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW for a panic attack</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>M.E. 766, October 4<sup>th</sup></em>
</p><p>“This gonna go as late as last night?” Iris asked as they stepped onto the elevator.</p><p>Noctis pressed the button for the 38<sup>th</sup> floor.  “A week on the job and you’re already complaining about the hours?”</p><p>She made a show of stifling a yawn.  “You know, I <em>happen</em> to be a morning person.  Unlike a certain <em>someone</em>.”</p><p>Noctis smiled.  The doors closed, their glossy surface reflecting back an image of himself that he still struggled to recognize, though the T-shirt, jeans, and lightweight jacket felt like him.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as the lift dropped smoothly and slowed to a halt.</p><p>Luna was waiting when the doors opened, having also opted for black jeans and work boots.  She wore a long-sleeve shirt and a gray vest with pockets.  “Ready?” she asked, a warm smile on her face as their gazes met.</p><p>“Good to go,” Noctis said, smiling back and moving over to make room as she joined them.  He hit the button for the 21<sup>st</sup> floor.</p><p>“Think we might unearth one of the benches today?” she asked.  “That one by the fountain, maybe.”</p><p>“It’s as good a goal as any,” Noctis said as the doors slid closed.  “It was pretty buried though.  Might take some doing.”</p><p>To which, Iris made a sound.  It wasn’t quite a whimper.</p><p>Noctis glanced at her.  “You’re welcome to help, you know.”</p><p>“Yes, it might take your mind off things,” Luna said.</p><p>Iris crinkled her nose.  “You know <em>normal people</em> would pick civilized hours and <em>daylight</em> to do these sorts of things.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “I think she’s got us there.”</p><p>“Truly.”  Luna laughed quietly behind her hand.</p><p>They disembarked when the lift doors opened, heading down the hall to double doors that led out onto the roof.  It was fully night, though the stars were out and the moon was a thin crescent overhead.  The gardens, two floors below the Crystal vault, had overgrown since the Fall and withered during the endless Night.  Iris switched on the lantern she carried, casting its brilliant ice-white glow over mounds of dead shrubs, trees, and flowers, their spindly shadows moving around with the light.</p><p>“Nn.”  Iris flinched back from a dense, spiky plant that definitely resembled a voretooth at the right angles.  “Just, make it snappy, huh?”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.”  Noct smothered a smile, ducking into the gardeners’ shed just beyond the entrance to grab gloves and tools for them. </p><p>It was becoming their nightly routine, tackling one small bit of the damage and overgrowth at a time.  Some days they swept up glass from the vault’s broken dome, other times they hacked away at deadwood, gathering the shriveled plants into bags to discard later.  They were slowly clearing off the flagstones between the flowerbeds, revealing the intricate diamond shape of the garden with the Crystal vault, elevated, at its center.</p><p>After spending all day in the barracks in the hastily organized command center, staring at whiteboards and listening to everyone argue about what to do next and how…it was nice to escape for a few hours, to do something with his hands that felt like progress, miniscule though it might be.  The gardens wouldn’t feed anyone or help them supply any vital utilities to the city, but if it gave the workers a place to rest, even for a few minutes, it was worth it.</p><p>At least, that’s what he told himself.  Really, the physical labor—within doctor’s limitations—and focus kept his mind engaged and would help him fall asleep, later.  Anything to keep himself occupied for a little while longer.  He couldn’t fish anywhere—plus it would only remind him of Gladio.  He couldn’t help in the kitchens without thinking of Ignis, and he couldn’t numb his brain with offline versions of his favorite phone games without seeing Prompto’s name alongside all of his high scores. </p><p>Working in the garden with Luna was different and no one ever interrupted them after dark.  They might be the only two people left who weren’t bothered by nightfall.</p><p>Well, Ignis wouldn’t be either, but—</p><p>“Noctis, this one’s being quite stubborn.  Could you help me?”</p><p>He deposited his armful of branches onto the refuse pile and went to assist.  Luna had a pair of long shears clamped around a thick branch, struggling to cut through more than halfway.</p><p>“Should’ve brought my sword,” he murmured, slipping in next to her and getting his gloved hands on the handles behind hers.  “Sharper than these rusty old tools.”  Noctis braced his right foot on the raised edge of the flowerbed.  Together, with a bit of grunting, they managed to sever the branch; it landed on the flagstones at their feet.</p><p>“Well.”  Luna drew back, face flushed with exertion as she pushed strands of hair from her brow.  “That should just about do it, I think.”</p><p>They’d carved an alcove for the bench at least, enough that someone could sit down for a rest without getting snagged by spiny, dead foliage.  It was a steel bench with a dark bronze finish, as intricate as anything else in the Citadel, and just large enough for two.  Noctis remembered what it used to look like, nestled against the flowerbeds, shaded by leafy trees, and facing the fountain on the north side of the garden.</p><p>He’d played here often as a child, running from his nurses in search of hiding places, dragging Ignis by the hand.  Ignis always protested these activities—fretting that they wouldn’t be able to hide and why didn’t he just eat his vegetables anyway?—but always accompanied him, regardless.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noctis exhaled, turning his attention to clearing leaves and bits of debris from the bench itself.  “Just about.”  Once it was clean and the area around the bench was swept, he took his gloves off and waved at it.  “Wanna try it out?”</p><p>“Shall we?” Luna smiled and sat down.</p><p>Noctis glanced over his shoulder to where Iris hovered with the lantern.  “You too, Iris.”</p><p>She frowned at him.  “I’m on duty you know.”</p><p>“You can be on duty over here.”</p><p>Iris huffed.  “<em>Fine</em>.”  She came over slowly, extinguishing the shadows with her light, peering suspiciously through the brush before she finally took a seat next to Luna.</p><p>Noct slipped his hands into his pockets.  “Pretty sure anything out there would’ve got the jump on us already.”</p><p>Iris glared at him, setting the blazing lantern at her feet.  “Some are quieter than others, you know.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  He turned away, looking towards the dry fountain and the railing at the edge of the roof, at the dark city beyond.  “I know.”</p><p>“Those gloves still holding up, Luna?” Iris asked.</p><p>“Well, they are rather worn, but I, oh—”  Luna gave a soft hiss of pain that immediately had Noctis turning around.</p><p>Iris bent over her hand.  “It’s a wood splinter.  Here, I’ll—”  She shifted for a better angle.  “Noct, can you hold the light?”</p><p>“Yup.”  He came back, dutifully holding the lantern for them as Iris worked.</p><p>“I hadn’t noticed,” Luna said, exhaling quietly.  “My hands were already sore.”</p><p>“All that magic and no help for a splinter, huh?” Iris asked.</p><p>“The magic is given to me for the sake of others.  Besides,” Luna smiled at her gently, “this way I receive the blessing of your kindness.  This inconvenience is all the sweeter, for it.”</p><p>Iris blushed scarlet.  “Oh my gosh, Luna.”  She ducked her head, clearly embarrassed, but Noct could tell she was fighting a smile at the same time.  “Or you could just say ‘thank you’ like a normal person.”</p><p>Luna blinked, glancing from Iris to him.  “Did I not just do that?”  Her expression was wholly perplexed, and Noctis couldn’t help but chuckle.</p><p>It took a moment longer, then—</p><p>“OK, there.”  Iris straightened up.  “You should wash up soon, but how does that feel?”</p><p>“Oh, much better,” Luna said, catching Iris’s hands in both of her own.  “Thank you, Iris.”</p><p>“You’re welcome?” her voice ended on a high squeak.  Iris popped off the bench, taking the lantern from him.  “I’ll just be, um—”  She gave up and fled to the edge of the garden while Noctis watched, amused.</p><p>“I suppose we ought to turn in.”  Luna brushed off her knees, picking up her gloves and tools as she rose.  “To get an early start on the day.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noctis glanced down at her hands.  “All good?”</p><p>“Perfectly fine.”  She showed him her palms, faint bits of dirt and sweat caught in the lines.  “As a matter of fact, I haven’t felt this alive in years.”</p><p>Noctis groaned, gently touching her arm to guide her towards the building.  “Horrible, Luna.  Absolutely <em>awful</em>.”</p><p>Luna smiled broadly, obviously delighted with herself.  “To think I’ve been saving that one for you for some time.”</p><p>He shook his head and led her inside.</p><p>…After bidding Luna goodnight, Noctis rode the elevator to the 39<sup>th</sup> floor with Iris.</p><p>“I’mma check on Gladdy before I go to bed,” she said, as the lift doors opened.  She’d called ahead, so Dustin was waiting when she stepped off.  “G’night, Noct.  See you in the morning.”</p><p>“‘Night, Iris.”  He waved.</p><p>Dustin boarded the lift in her place.  “Turning in for the night, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Yup.”  Noctis stifled a yawn.  “Think so.”</p><p>Dustin nodded, looking pleased.  When they arrived on Noct’s floor, he did a brief sweep of the corridor and apartment before letting Noctis inside.  Then he took up his station just outside the door.  “Have a good night, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“You too, Dustin.  Thanks.  See you in the morning.”</p><p>Noctis went inside and headed for the bedroom.  He showered, dried off, and snapped himself back into the chest brace before dressing in his pajamas—they were silk, he guessed.  –A black button-down shirt with white piping and pants that matched.  His sheets were just as wrinkled as he’d left them as he climbed into bed—he’d made an attempt to tidy up earlier, since he’d emphatically put a stop to any of the crownsguard spending time doing housework for him.  They certainly didn’t have the resources to spare and even then, he was an adult now.  He didn’t need Ignis or anyone else to clean up his messes.</p><p>A pang of guilt lodged beneath Noct’s breastbone.  He exhaled, carefully rolled over, and went to sleep.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Noctis was up with the dawn—stirring as sunlight streamed into his bedroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows.  It happened without fail, these days—couldn’t sleep in if he wanted to.  Though there was still a while before breakfast, he washed up and dressed immediately, heading out the door.</p><p>Dustin fell in beside him, en route to the elevator.  “Did you have a pleasant rest, Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Good enough.”  Noctis nodded.</p><p>They boarded the lift when it arrived.</p><p>“The usual this morning?” Dustin asked, his hand hovering over the panel of buttons.</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>They rode down to the 20<sup>th</sup> floor, switched to the secure elevator, and headed for the vault.  It was his daily routine now, coming to check on his friends and see what else had emerged from the Armiger with the sunrise.  Mostly, it was still small trinkets, but there were a few more substantial items over the past couple of days.  Sun Tzu’s <em>The Art of War</em>—the ‘light reading’ Gladio brought on their road trip, some of Ignis’s cookware, one of Prompto’s pistols.  And an elixir, which he immediately poured out over Ignis given the severity of his injuries, only to watch the liquid turn gray and evaporate the instant it touched the air.  His magic was completely gone, it seemed.</p><p>Entering the antechamber, they found the doors to the control room standing open.  Noct’s heart leapt into his throat.  He quickened his steps and nearly collided with Monica and one of the doctors as they emerged from the vault.</p><p>“Your Majesty, good morning,” Monica said.</p><p>“Is there—”  Noct swallowed, his pulse racing.  “Has something…?”</p><p>“I’m not sure what, if any, conclusion to draw at this point,” the doctor said, glancing down at her notes with a sigh.  “We’ve observed a slight increase in Master Gladiolus’s temperature—<em>slight</em>, I stress, because it remains well below what we’d consider a normal range.  There are still no signs of other vitals.”</p><p>“But it’s a change,” Noct said, unable to keep the desperate hope from his voice.  “It’s something.”</p><p>The doctor glanced at Monica, saying nothing at first, then back to him.  “We’ll keep an eye on it, Your Majesty.”  It was clear that was all he’d get from her.</p><p>“Thanks.”  He tried to sound more grateful than disappointed.</p><p>She bowed and left.</p><p>Noctis headed into the vault, going straight for his friend and the monitors.  Gladio didn’t look any different.  As for the numbers on the screen, his temperature was 35.3 degrees C.  The trace was nearly flat, suggesting a gradual, almost imperceptible rise.  Whatever that meant—admittedly, he wasn’t any kind of expert.  <em>But—</em></p><p>He took Gladio’s hand, squeezing warm, pliant fingers.  “Come on, big guy.  Wake up for me, would ya?”  Noct waited, sliding his fingertips along Gladio’s wrist and pressing down, hoping, wishing, praying to feel <em>something</em>.</p><p>But there was still nothing.  He sighed, closing his eyes to gather himself, to keep his anxious heart in check.</p><p>Lowering Gladio’s hand to the cot, Noctis made a pass around the others and their monitors before heading for the Crystal.</p><p>The area around the Crystal’s pedestal had been softened by thick mats, probably from one of the training halls.  Several items awaited him.  More fishing lures—yikes, how many had he <em>collected?</em>  He never really thought about it, tossing each new one into the Armiger with the others.  But he’d apparently amassed enough to fill a whole cardboard box.  It was kind of embarrassing.</p><p>There were a couple of photographs, slightly worn—he’d need more light to make them out—and, <em>oh</em>.  Prompto’s camera and Ignis’s black leather recipe book.  Noct breathed out, cradling the precious items in his hands, as if they could bring his friends back to him—return to him more than just an echo.</p><p>He carried everything to the edge of the room where he flicked on one of the spotlights and sat on the floor.  He opened Ignis’s recipe book first, the pages filled with Ignis’s delicate script, and flipped to the last page with writing.  It was a lasagna recipe—a dish they’d eaten in Altissia, the same one Ignis made him the last night they’d been together, almost a month ago now.  Ignis had written down all of the ingredients and instructions in detail and there was a small annotation at the bottom—</p><p>
  <em>Noct enjoyed this one, even with the vegetables.</em>
</p><p>Noct’s throat closed, hot and tight.  <em>Ignis.</em>  There were no more entries—half a book’s worth of blank pages for recipes Ignis wouldn’t write down.  He had to preserve this somehow.  Figure out a way to scan it or digitize it or something, even if Noct had to type every recipe out himself, so that Ignis could have this again, if—  <em>When</em>.  When he woke up.</p><p>Prompto’s camera still had a charge when Noct turned it on, its memory showing nearly full on the display.  But he hesitated, his thumb hovering over the history button.  There were ten years of life in here that Noctis hadn’t shared with him, ten years of survival and likely personal things too.  He didn’t feel like he had the right to pry.  <em>Someday</em>.  Noctis turned the camera off.  <em>When you wake up, Prom, you can show me.</em>  He set it carefully beside him.</p><p>The two loose photo prints were creased around the edges.  Gladio was in both of them.  One was really old—taken during their road trip—Gladio with his kid sister Iris on the lookout at Lestallum.  There was sun and the Disc of Cauthess in the background, the photo taken some time before Noct made the covenant with Titan.  The second picture was more recent, taken in a very different Lestallum with the main street boarded up and barricaded.  The sky was dark except for the glow from the direction of the power plant.  It was a candid shot, Gladio standing back-to-back with a woman, both of them with their weapons out, as if the battle had just ended.  Noct didn’t recognize her—she was tall with curly black hair, dressed in hunter’s gear, and fought with a pair of razor-sharp daggers.  Whoever had snapped the shot—Noct’s money was on Prompto—had caught Gladio looking over his shoulder at her.  Concern for a comrade and respect—those were fairly common expressions for Gladio to wear.  But this was a whole different level of ‘looking’—charged, sharp, and intimate.  Obviously someone important, maybe the girlfriend he’d alluded to before they left to confront Ardyn, wedding plans on hold until the Dawn was sorted out.</p><p>There was nothing written on the back of the photo, not even a name.  Was she still in Lestallum?  Was she alive?  Was she waiting for Gladio to come back to her?  Noct swallowed hard.  They’d all given so much for his sake.</p><p>He’d started three bins—one for each of them, to keep their personal effects separate from his mountain of fishing lures and their communal items.  He put the photos in Gladio’s bin, tucking them into the front of the book where they’d be safe.  Prompto’s camera went in with his pistol and Noct put Ignis’s recipe book alongside a few cooking utensils that he’d particularly treasured.  Hopefully they’d all wake up before he filled the bins.  Because, otherwise…</p><p><em>No.</em>  He refused to think about <em>otherwise</em>.</p><p>Noctis got up and switched off the light, bathing the room in the dim blue glow of the Crystal once more.  He headed for the door.  It was nearly time for breakfast and shortly after that, they had a call with EXINERIS—</p><p>A flutter of paper stopped him.  Noctis looked down, finding a single sheet of paper next to his foot.  Whether it had just been discharged from the Armiger or he’d missed it before, who knew.  Bending down, he picked it up, turning the paper over in his hands.  It was a drawing, though he couldn’t tell of what without more light.  Noctis retreated to the edge of the chamber and hit the switch for the overhead spotlight.</p><p>It was a drawing done in crayon—dark shapes and squiggly lines.  He rotated the page, unsure what to make of it.  Most of the drawing was black or dark brown, with a few stalk-like somethings in between.  Crops, maybe?  Trees?  Or people, if he squinted.  Yeah, maybe people—stick figures with scribbles for hair.  There were five of them, two taller on either side and three shorter in the middle—</p><p>Noctis froze.  This came out of the <em>Armiger</em>.  Put there by one of his friends…</p><p>With shaking fingers, he turned the paper over.  There were two things written on the back.</p><p>In a child’s hand—<em>My family.</em></p><p>In an adult’s familiar scrawl—<em>Benin, age 5.</em></p><p>The world fell out from underneath him.</p><p>Noctis was barely aware of crashing to his knees.  Everything seemed distant and muffled, the edges of his vision going fuzzy.  He didn’t remember Monica coming in, but she was suddenly crouched before him, her hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Your Majesty—<em>Noctis</em>—what’s wrong?”</p><p>His gaze swam over her face as he shook and gulped for air, pushing the trembling paper towards her.  “He didn’t tell me.  Why didn’t anyone <em>tell me?!</em>”</p><p>Monica reached for her transceiver.  “Iris.”</p><p>Noctis slumped forward, light-headed, his palms clammy against the floor.  <em>Oh God.  Prom—</em></p><p>There was a hiss of static, Iris answering almost immediately.  “Yeah?”</p><p>“I need you outside the vault.  We’ll be in the sitting room.  Bring Lady Lunafreya, please.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah!  Got it!”</p><p>Noctis didn’t remember the stairs or the walk to the sitting room, or taking a seat on the couch.  He stared at the drawing on the table, breathing too fast, pulse racing, feeling cold all over—</p><p>The door opened.</p><p>“Noct, what—”  Iris came into the room but Noct couldn’t look at her, couldn’t look away—</p><p>Suddenly Luna was there, kneeling between his feet, breaking into his vision.  She cupped his face with warm hands.  “Noctis, you must breathe,” she said.  “Slowly, in and out, one breath at a time.”</p><p>Noctis shook his head, his hands curling into fists at his sides.  “He had <em>kids</em>, Luna.  Why would he—?  How—?  How could he risk not coming home to them?!”  <em>How could he risk all of that—for <strong>me</strong>?</em></p><p>“Noctis.”  Luna held him firmly, the blue of her eyes blazing into him.  “You must listen to me.  Had you failed to restore the Dawn, all of Eos would have perished.  You know this.”</p><p>His breath shuddered out between his lips, his gaze trapped by hers.</p><p>“It is not for you to judge the choices others make for love.  Do you understand?”</p><p>Her words sank in slowly as he stared at her face.  Gradually, he was able to blink, his breaths easing to the rhythm of her thumbs brushing in measured arcs across his cheeks.  The guilt remained—shame squeezing his chest, panic giving way to anguish.  Luna blurred before him as tears filled his eyes and spilled down onto her hands.</p><p>“<em>I don’t deserve it</em>,” he whispered, voice breaking.  “All these sacrifices for my sake—”</p><p>“No one does,” she murmured, brushing away his tears. </p><p>“But what do I <em>do</em>?”</p><p>Luna smiled kindly at him.  “Seek to love, as you’ve been loved.  Do not seek to repay debts that can never be repaid.  But each day, as long as you have breath, seek to love out of all that has been given to you.”</p><p>Noctis closed his eyes, resting his head in her hands, his breath trailing from his lips.  The claw-like grip on his heart began to loosen, slowly but surely.  He felt the warmth of her magic, seeing its glow through his eyelids as it poured into him, encircling the hollow ache in his chest.  It did not relieve the pain, but wrapped around it like an embrace, and he realized for the first time that this pain was precious, that it could change him if he let it.  That he could be a better man and king, for it.</p><p>Calmer, Noctis reached up, placing his hands over hers.  “Luna, thank you.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, my king,” she said, holding him for a moment longer and then drawing back.</p><p>Noctis brushed hair from his face.  They were alone in the room, though the door was open and no doubt Monica and Iris were just outside.</p><p>“Do you need…?”  Luna pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her suit jacket.</p><p>“No, I’ve—”  He had one, taking it out and drying his tears, sinking back against the cushions as he blew his nose.</p><p>Luna sat on the opposite couch, reaching for the drawing on the table between them.  “This is lovely,” she said.  “Even in the bleakest dark, families find strength and joy in each other.”</p><p>Noctis exhaled, resting his head against the back of the couch.  He glanced towards the open door.  “Iris?”</p><p>She popped into the doorway.  “Nea’s coming next week.  There’s no way she isn’t bringing the kids.”</p><p>“Nea?”  Noctis straightened.  “<em>Aranea?</em>  Prompto and <em>Aranea</em>, seriously?”</p><p>“Well…there’s never been anything <em>official…</em>”</p><p>He waved at the drawing.  “That’s not official?”</p><p>Iris chuckled.  “I mean, if you ask <em>my </em>opinion…  But it’s probably best you hear about it from them.”</p><p><em>Huh.</em>  He couldn’t help but think back to all the times he’d teased Prompto about Aranea or Cindy and how much Prom had gushed over both of them.  But…maybe he was reading too much into it.  Noct glanced at the drawing again.  Maybe.</p><p>“So…?”  Iris hovered in the doorway.  “You feel up to getting some breakfast, Noct?  It’s that time.”</p><p>“Yeah, in a minute.”  Noct got up, taking the picture with him.  “One thing first.”  He tugged on Iris’s arm.  “Don’t get your hopes up too much, but come with me.” </p><p>He took her to the vault, to her brother’s bedside.  And, despite his warning, she shrieked and hugged him and cried.  Because +0.2 degrees was more than enough to keep hope alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I wish I had better news for you, Your Majesty.”  Static crackled around Holly Teulle’s voice on the radio.  “As of today, we’re at thirty-one percent capacity.”</p>
<p>Noctis cringed at the number, a tense silence settling over everyone in the cramped breakroom-turned command center in the Citadel barracks.  Dustin wrote the figure next to today’s date on the whiteboard—a couple weeks’ worth of dates, a couple weeks’ worth of despairingly shrinking numbers.  At this rate…</p>
<p>“At this rate, we expect the shards to go dark in less than a month.  We’ve instituted rolling blackouts and started depowering non-essentials in order to keep the vertical farms online.  But there’s nothing we can do that buys us more time.”</p>
<p>The writing had been on the wall for days.  It still sucked to hear it.  It was October 5<sup>th</sup>, so by early November…  “Copy that, Holly,” Noctis said into the microphone.  He released the switch, tapping his pen against the notepad in front of him, a half-page of scrawled thoughts and questions, no <em>answers.</em></p>
<p>“Jeanne’s with you?” Holly asked.</p>
<p>Noctis slid the microphone across the table, waving Jeanne over. </p>
<p>Jeanne Labreigh, an apprentice of Holly’s who’d arrived with the Lestallum crew, came to the center table and leaned towards the microphone, depressing the switch. “I’m here, Holly.”  She settled into the chair Iris pushed towards her, returning a nod of thanks.  “It’s been a productive week as far as learning what we’ve got and what we need to do.  I gotta preface this, though, that none of these solutions can be implemented overnight.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I gotcha, Jeanne,” Holly said.  “Lay it on me.”</p>
<p>“Insomnia’s situation first.  The engineers and technicians who’ve worked here before have a fairly good handle on what it’s going to take to get the North Power Plant back up and running.  We’ve got a parts list, so now it’s a matter of what spares are available and what can be salvaged from the other power plants in the meantime.  Hard to put a schedule to that, though, for obvious reasons.  Once we have the parts, techs are thinking repairs will take a week, plus another couple of days for testing.  Supposing all goes well, we’d be looking at ten days to bring the north section of the grid online, and probably another week to connect to the rest of Insomnia’s grid, at least those sections that aren’t heavily damaged.”</p>
<p>That was good news—really good news.  Noctis wrote <em>PARTS</em>, underlined it twice, then roughed out the schedule Jeanne had described.</p>
<p>“For EXINERIS,” Jeanne said, “we’re already rigged to convert thermal energy into electricity, so most of the plant and infrastructure is still good.  But we need a new heat source and that’s going to mean burning something—fuel oil, coal, or gas.  We’ll have to clear out the shards, design and build the furnace and boilers, fuel stores, and distribution.  It’s nothing EXINERIS can’t handle.  Our crew here is already starting to sketch out some plans.  But it’s all going to take time.  Assuming we’ve got everything ready to go when the shards quit, we’re still looking at a couple months, at least, of being offline.”</p>
<p><em>Damn</em>.  Noctis took a few notes, frowning.</p>
<p>“I should mention, none of the crew is super thrilled about burning anything as a long-term solution.  Insomnia’s four plants run on a combination of oil and coal, but—before—the city got most of its power from hydro plants like Crestholm Channel and the wind farm in Cavaugh.  Solar was never big here, but according to the Insomnian engineers, Lestallum would be perfect for it.  There are definite opportunities to explore out by us—the River Wennath, Callatein’s Plunge, the gorge right outside Lestallum.  But we’re talking on the order of years to implement anything like that.”</p>
<p>There was a pause before Holly came back on the radio.  “Thanks, Jeanne.  Me and the group here agree with your team’s assessment.”  She sighed.  “But obviously months without the grid is going to be a problem.  Not just for Lestallum, but for all the farms, outposts, and outlying areas that people would be returning to.  We’ve got folks working on restoring transportation to Accordo and the western continent, so we can assess what infrastructure’s there and whether or not they’ll be self-sustaining anytime soon.  We’ll keep you in the loop on that, Your Majesty.  But…there’s something else you should know.”  There was a brief, grim silence.  “The cooling shards aren’t just affecting Lestallum’s power situation.  Our meteorologists say we’re already well below seasonal norms, temperature-wise.  With the loss of the meteor’s heat, they’re projecting a dramatic shift in climate throughout Cleigne and Duscae and an unprecedented winter.”</p>
<p>Winter, without power…farmlands turned to snowfields…  Noctis couldn’t help but think of Ghorovas Rift, Shiva’s frozen corpse making an icy wasteland out of the desert.  Insomnia had to take refugees.  They had to accept anyone and everyone in need of shelter.  He hadn’t brought the Dawn just so people could freeze to death in the cold.  Noctis glanced at Cor, who was already frowning at him.  He knew what Cor would say—Insomnia’s resources were partially assessed and limited, that they didn’t have enough to take care of everyone—and he didn’t doubt the truth of that.  But, damnit, they had to find a way.</p>
<p>“…If I may, Your Majesty,” Jeanne said, “I have an idea.”</p>
<p>Noctis broke off his silent argument with Cor, looking at her.  “Yes, go ahead.”  <em>Anything</em>.  Providence knew he wasn’t the expert here.</p>
<p>Jeanne keyed the microphone again so that EXINERIS would be tied in.  “Your Majesty, there was a time, early in the Night, when we tied Insomnia into the EXINERIS grid.  Not much of the city and it wasn’t long until the daemons pushed us out again, but the infrastructure—if damaged—is there.  If we get your North Plant up and running again, and say, the hydro plant at Crestholm Channel, we could power Lestallum and all of Lucis from Insomnia.”</p>
<p>Noctis drew a breath, a bright spark of hope igniting in his chest.</p>
<p>“Your Majesty, we don’t know the extent of damage to Crestholm Channel,” Cor said, “it was overrun with daemons even before the Night.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Noctis said, not looking away from Jeanne.  “I’ve been there.”</p>
<p>“We’d have to assess it,” Jeanne said.  “That and the damage to the grid.  I…  Admittedly, it’s a wild card, and we’d have to draw resources from converting the EXINERIS plant in Lestallum to do it, but…”</p>
<p>“But if it works, Lucis has power,” Noctis said.  “And Lestallum won’t have to be offline while the modifications are done.”</p>
<p>“The coming winter will still be an unknown,” Luna said from his right side.</p>
<p>Noctis nodded.  “Insomnia will still need to be prepared to take refugees from anywhere and everywhere.  Jeanne, I like it.”  He glanced at the radio.  “Holly, concerns?”</p>
<p>There was a momentary pause before Holly replied.  “No, Your Majesty.  It’s a great idea, Jeanne.  We were just talking about who we’d split off for the assessment.  We agree it should be pursued, regardless of the outcome.”</p>
<p>“Then it’s settled,” Noctis said.  <em>Progress—finally!</em>  “Jeanne, Holly, figure out what you’ll need and let me know how Insomnia can help.  In the meantime we’ll draw up plans for housing and feeding refugees—” Cor was still frowning, even as Dustin dutifully made notes on the whiteboard under the heading <em>Priorities</em>.  “As soon as we can we’ll let you know in terms of numbers and timing.”  Noct scribbled a note to himself on his notepad.  “When should we talk again?”  He glanced up at the schedule on the board.  “We’ve got a meeting with the Comms team after lunch…”</p>
<p>“If we can have the rest of the day to sort things out between my team and yours, Your Majesty,” Jeanne said, “and confer with Lestallum.  I think we can have something solid by morning.”</p>
<p>“Perfect.  Let’s go with that—same time tomorrow.  Holly, that works for you?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Your Majesty.”</p>
<p>Dustin added the meeting to the schedule.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Everyone.”  Noctis stood, which meant everyone else in the room did as well—silly formalities.  <em>They </em>were the ones doing the work and making everything happen.  He was grateful to be surrounded by people smarter about these things than himself.  “Great work—feels like we’re going in the right direction.”  He made eye contact with Jeanne in particular.  “Keep bringing up these ideas.  Things aren’t going to look the same as before.  I’m not trying to get us back to the old Lucis.  I want a <em>new</em> Lucis—one that’s better for everyone.  And—” he smiled, “it’s gonna take a bunch of crazy ideas to get there.  Thanks.”</p>
<p>Jeanne smiled, a murmur of approval going through the room, though Cor still wore a pained expression.</p>
<p>Noctis grabbed his notepad and pen, tucking the items into his jacket as he squeezed between tables turned into makeshift desks and headed for the door with Luna and Iris.</p>
<p>“That was well said, Noctis.”  Luna smiled at him, looking pleased as they walked down the hallway.</p>
<p>“Glad you approve.”  He smiled at her wryly.  “Since I’m about to get it from this guy.”  Noctis nodded towards Cor, who’d followed them.  He turned, stopping near the elevators.  “As much as I appreciate you not arguing with me in front of the others, I’m gonna need an office so we can at least do it in private.”</p>
<p>Cor sighed as he joined them.  “It’s not my intent to be a voice of dissention, Your Majesty,” he said.  “But I feel you’re taking a narrow and idealistic view of some things.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Noctis shrugged.  “I’m not the expert here and I didn’t live through ten years of making things work like you all did.  I need your input, Cor, whether it clashes with my thinking or not.”  He jabbed the button for the elevator.  “Can we open the Administrative floors?  I’m not suggesting we move meetings to the Great Hall or anything, but we’re overflowing the space in the barracks for sure.”</p>
<p>Cor’s face smoothed.  “Speaking of the Great Hall, Your Majesty.  It’s…something I’ve been meaning to bring up with you.”</p>
<p>The lift arrived, the four of them boarding.  “What’s the issue?”</p>
<p>Cor didn’t answer right away.  Iris’s expression shuttered.  What was he missing?</p>
<p>“Noctis.”  Luna gently touched his arm.  “It ought to be done, as you’ve said.  But everyone, especially you and those closest to the crown, needs to be prepared for what you’ll find there.”</p>
<p><em>Oh.</em>  It hit him like a ton of bricks.  <em>Fuck</em>.  The signing ceremony.  The attack.  Noctis exhaled, all of his cheery optimism vanishing.  “No one’s been in there?”</p>
<p>“We…had decided to wait until we could talk with you about it,” Cor said finally.  “It’s not that it isn’t a priority, but—”</p>
<p>“No, I get it.”  Noctis fidgeted with the cuff of one shirt sleeve, tugging it straight.  “Let’s get the right people together to do it.”  A lump formed in his throat.  “We’ll need…arrangements.”  For the bodies.  For his father, for Clarus Amicitia—the king’s Shield.  For everyone else who’d been killed.</p>
<p>Cor bowed to him.  “I’ll see to the necessary preparations, Your Majesty.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>They set aside the entire day on Monday—sunrise to sunset—with hunters and others temporarily pulled from their duties to assist.  Noctis waited in the Hall of History, gripping Luna’s hand as the tall, double doors were pulled open, leading into the Great Hall where the signing was to take place.  The hinges creaked with protest and disuse, the doors scraping softly against dusty marble as they swung outward, and then…silence.  Cor and Monica, flanking the entryway, bowed.</p>
<p>Drawing a deep breath, Noctis went inside with Luna, Iris right behind them.  He was no stranger to death or tombs at this point, but these were people he’d known all his life.  His father’s council deserved better than the betrayal and murder they’d been dealt by Niflheim.  His footsteps echoed in the vast hall, bits of broken glass crunching beneath the soles of his shoes.  Daylight filtered into the chamber from the ornate, arched window—three stories tall—on the far side of the room; a large section near the top of the arch was shattered.  Bodies and weapons and the lifeless husks of magitek troopers were scattered across the floor.</p>
<p>Noctis walked among them slowly.  There wasn’t much left of anyone—bones, clothing, and old blood stains.  The council had been dressed in their heavy, formal robes—black fabric and bits of gold that still gleamed.  And there were others—guards and attendants.  Noctis crouched, somber, beside a crumbled form in a comparatively understated black suit.  But he recognized the pin on the lapel of the jacket—it belonged to Ignis’s uncle.</p>
<p>He lingered there for a moment as his crownsguard and the others came into the room—as the somber work began of carefully transferring councilmembers’ remains to body bags.</p>
<p>He’d just straightened to his feet when Iris cried out in anguish.  She was farther into the chamber, hands covering her mouth.  Noctis followed her gaze, and felt his entire body sink—weighed down and heavy.  What remained of the body of Clarus Amicitia—Iris and Gladio’s father, Regis’s Shield—was pinned high on the wall with his own sword.</p>
<p>“<em>Dad</em>—”  Iris swayed, her breath hitched in a fractured sob.  She crashed to her knees.</p>
<p>Luna went to her, enfolding a shaking Iris in her arms.  “Know that he’s at peace,” she whispered.  “Know that he awaits you in the beyond.  Know that he loves you—” her voice broke quietly, “<em>ever so much</em>.” </p>
<p>Iris clung to her and wept, Luna silently crying with her.  Noctis blinked back his own tears.  Oh <em>God</em>, how did he ever think he’d be ready to do this?</p>
<p>They had to get a couple of ladders; it took two people plus others to dislodge the sword and lower Clarus’s remains to the floor.  Though they worked with the utmost care, it had been too long.  Parts of the body crumbled; Iris shrieked, breaking away from Luna.  Cor caught her around the waist, keeping her from getting too close as they finished taking her father’s body down.  Noctis closed his eyes, aching for her, the grief hot and tight in his throat.</p>
<p>His father wasn’t in the room.  Luna pointed out the damaged elevator shaft and they had to take a different route to get to the bottom of it, going up from the auxiliary garage and through a passageway…  It was in a circular room with a high ceiling, lit by dying sunlight, that Noctis found his father’s body. </p>
<p>He let go of Luna’s hand, moving silently and slowly, tears blurring his vision.  Noctis sank to his knees, reaching out to touch the hem of his father’s raiment.  <em>Dad.</em>  He’d never properly said goodbye, regret burning through him as he thought of their last conversation on the Citadel steps.  He’d been full of suppressed anger and resentment, being rushed out of the city for a wedding he didn’t ask for, hating the ring and the Wall and the war that was slowly killing his father.  He wished he would’ve known that it was going to be the last time.  <em>I wish I would’ve told you.  How much I loved you.  How much I wished we had more time.</em>  The tears slid down his cheeks.</p>
<p>His father had only gone on ahead—he knew that from his time in the throne room and in the Crystal—awaiting him in the realm beyond.  But the sense of loss consumed him.  Even though he’d mourned his father’s death after Insomnia’s Fall, Noctis’s heart shattered all over again.</p>
<p>Cor, Monica, and Dustin quietly and carefully did the work of gathering up what remained of King Regis’s body.  They left Noctis with the bloodstained crown, bowed, and at his nod, withdrew.</p>
<p>Only Luna stayed with him, kneeling at his side as he gathered this last remnant of his father into his hands, the arcs of platinum and gold and the rows of tiny flecks of crystal glinting in the waning sunlight that filtered into the room.  He closed his hands around it, the curved points digging into his skin. </p>
<p>“He…gave his life so that I could escape with the ring,” Luna said in a whisper.  “Even knowing he’s alright now, I—”</p>
<p>He glanced at her through the wash of his tears, found her eyes reddened and her face gleaming with her own grief. </p>
<p>“Oh, Noctis, I’m sorry.”  Her breath hitched, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks.  “I loved him too.”</p>
<p><em>Luna</em>—  Noctis reached for her.  They held each other, crying, until the light faded entirely.</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>Noctis woke up, throat parched and face tight.  He slowly sat up, blinking in unfamiliar surroundings.  There was a couch beneath him, a blanket falling from his shoulder…and he finally recognized the sitting room in Luna’s apartment.  Iris was curled up in a chair across from him, awake, with a blanket wrapped around her torso and a mug in her hands.  He could hear Luna moving around in the kitchen.</p>
<p>Iris looked as exhausted as he felt, despite the fact that they’d both passed out for a few hours, at least.</p>
<p>“Noct—”  She scrubbed quickly at her face with a handkerchief.  “You’re up.”</p>
<p>“I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck to alleviate a bit of stiffness.  His days of being able to sleep anywhere and everywhere without consequence were really gone, huh?  If even a few hours on the couch left him sore all over.  <em>Guess I really am getting old.</em></p>
<p>Luna came into the room with two steaming mugs.  “Tea?” she asked.  She’d removed her jacket and loosened her tie.</p>
<p>“Yeah, thanks.”  He accepted the cup from her—it was an unfamiliar blend, something floral—and shifted to the side to make room as she sat next to him and tucked her sock feet under her.</p>
<p>The crown of Lucis—cleaned and sparkling—sat on a folded cloth on top of the low table in front of him.</p>
<p>“So…” Iris said, at length.  “We should…have a funeral.”</p>
<p>Noctis took a sip from his tea and set it down.  “Yeah.”  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.</p>
<p>“Not just for my dad and your dad.  So many—” her voice cracked and she fell silent.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Noct said, drawing a deep breath.  “I’ll talk to Cor and Monica.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t have to be a big production, just…”</p>
<p>Noctis nodded.  Just something, for acknowledgment and closure, for people’s hearts to heal.  “We can set a date, give people enough time to be here if they want.”</p>
<p>“And…”  Iris shifted, freeing one hand and pointing.</p>
<p>To the crown.</p>
<p>“You should wear it, Noct.”</p>
<p>He let out a slow, tight breath, saying nothing.</p>
<p>“I don’t mean you have to make a bunch of fancy speeches.  I don’t think it’s right to have a party right now.  <em>But</em>—”</p>
<p>He glanced up from the crown to Iris, to her eyes gleaming with tears.</p>
<p>“It would mean something to the people.  To me and everyone else.  That everything we fought for.  That everything we lost and…<em>everyone</em>—”  She shook her head.  “I’m not saying that you being king magically <em>fixes</em> it all, but…”</p>
<p>“But it’s a symbol,” Luna said.  “Of hope, of newness, of grace.”</p>
<p>Noctis looked at her, reminded of her words from days ago—of loving with the love he’d been given.  “Luna.”  He reached for her hand and she gave it, curling her fingers warmly around his palm.  “As Oracle, can you be the one to do it?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”  She smiled at him, squeezing his hand.  “Of course, Noctis.”</p>
<p>There was a sudden burst of static from Iris’s hip.</p>
<p>“Iris, Your Majesty—” Monica’s voice was tight.</p>
<p>Noct instantly stopped breathing.</p>
<p>Iris nearly dropped her mug, reaching for her transceiver.  “Monica, go.”</p>
<p>“Vault, <em>now</em>.”  There was a commotion in the background.  “It’s Master Gladiolus.”</p>
<p>They all three leapt up at once.  Iris’s mug landed on the floor, spilling tea onto the rug.</p>
<p>“<em>Shit</em>—”</p>
<p>“Leave it.”  Noct grabbed her arm as they ran for the door.  He punched the button for the elevator with his fist.</p>
<p>“Iris, do you copy?” Monica asked.</p>
<p>“Yes!  We’re on our way!”</p>
<p>It was the longest damn elevator ride.  Noct tapped his foot the whole time, realizing after the fact that none of them had shoes on.  Too late to worry about that.  When the doors opened on the 20<sup>th</sup> floor, they ran.</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>When they got to the top of the stairs on the 23<sup>rd</sup> floor, both sets of doors were open—the double doors into the vault’s control room and the inner door to the Crystal chamber.  Shouts came from inside, mixing and overlapping.  One voice caused Noct’s heart to stop.</p>
<p>“Get off me.  <em>Get off me!</em>  Where’s Noct?  Noct!”</p>
<p>He sprinted into the chamber, Iris hot on his heels, pushing his way through the crowd of doctors and nurses and crownsguard.</p>
<p>Gladio was <em>awake</em> in the center of it, thrashing and bleeding through his bandages, throwing off the people who were attempting to restrain him.  The vitals monitor toppled to the ground with a loud crash.</p>
<p>Noct sucked in a breath.  “Gladio!!”</p>
<p>At once, Gladio stilled.  His wide, roving eyes searched the crowd, his chest rising and falling with quick pulses of breath.  Their eyes locked.</p>
<p><em>Gladio—</em>  Noct’s eyes filled with tears again despite all the crying he’d already done today. </p>
<p>Iris pushed through to get next to him.  “Gladdy!”</p>
<p>Gladio scrambled upright, reaching for them.  “Noct—  Iris—”</p>
<p>They rushed in, sandwiching him into a hug as Gladio threw his arms around them.</p>
<p><em>Oh God.</em>  Noct clutched his Shield.  <em>You’re back, you’re awake, you’re alive—</em></p>
<p>“…Your Majesty, we need to assess his injuries—”</p>
<p>“<em>Give them a moment</em>.”  Thank God for Monica, really.</p>
<p>Noct drew back, running his sleeve across his eyes.</p>
<p>“Noct.”  Gladio stared at him without blinking.  “You’re really alive.”</p>
<p>He laughed, drawing a teary breath.  “<em>My line</em>, big guy.”</p>
<p>Gladio’s eyes gleamed.  “No shit,” he whispered, and crushed Noct against him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>M.E. 766, October 9<sup>th</sup></em>
</p>
<p>“A fucking <em>month?”</em></p>
<p>Noctis perched on the edge of Gladio’s bed while his Shield paced across the infirmary room.  “Yup.”</p>
<p>“We <em>just</em> blew Ardyn to bits.”  Gladio was barefoot, in sweatpants, his torso freshly bandaged.  “You said the Crystal’s power was fading.  That <em>just</em> happened.”  Daylight spilled across Gladio’s features from the window and he turned to stare at it, like he hadn’t seen the sun in…well…</p>
<p>“Crystal time’s different than normal time,” Noct said.  <em>If you think this is the weirdest thing that’s happened, wait until you meet Luna</em>.</p>
<p>Gladio rubbed both hands over his face, his dark brown hair hanging in loose waves.  “<em>Fuck</em>,” he whispered, voice muffled against his palms.</p>
<p>Noct half-smiled, half-winced.  “Pretty much sums up the last few weeks of my life.  Not that there haven’t been some high points, but…”</p>
<p>Gladio turned to look at him—really look at him, gaze running from Noct’s face to his feet and back.  “It actually worked.  Iggy’s crazy-ass plan…”</p>
<p><em>That</em> made Noct’s smile falter.  He swallowed, his voice coming out hoarse.  “…Yeah.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“They’re still out.”</p>
<p>“Out?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Noct’s shoulders slumped.  “Like you were.”</p>
<p>Gladio folded his arms.  “You’re saying the Crystal’s still got ‘em.”</p>
<p>“Something like—”</p>
<p>A knock on the door interrupted them.  “Your Majesty?” Monica asked.</p>
<p>Noctis straightened up, glancing at Gladio, who nodded.  “Come on in, Monica.”</p>
<p>She opened the door and bowed.  “Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty, but we just received word from the West Gate…”</p>
<p>“Oh, she’s here, huh?”  He managed not to grimace.  This was going to be fun.  And by ‘fun’ he meant…</p>
<p>Monica arched a brow.  “You’ll be heading down then?”</p>
<p>“Yup.”  Noct stood up, smoothing a wrinkle from his jacket.</p>
<p>“Alright.  Cor’s down there already; I’ll let him know.”  She nodded to Gladio.  “Good to see you up and about again.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Gladio said.</p>
<p>Monica ducked out of the room and closed the door.</p>
<p>“So the doctors want to keep you for the rest of the day…”</p>
<p>“<em>Right</em>, like I’m letting you out of my sight, Noct,” Gladio said, already starting to strip off his sweatpants.</p>
<p>“Uh—”  Noct spun away.  Wasn’t the first time he’d gotten a glimpse of Gladio’s bare ass, but still.</p>
<p>“The hell this isn’t…”  Gladio huffed.  “Noct, the Armiger—”</p>
<p>“Yeah, about the Armiger—”</p>
<p>The door opened, Iris bursting into the room with Luna trailing behind her.  “Gladdy, I heard—  <em>Oh my God,</em> why aren’t you wearing any <em>clothes?!</em>”</p>
<p>“Hey, good sisters knock!”</p>
<p>“Monica was just in here!”  Iris fled, pulling Luna back into the hall.</p>
<p>“Uh…Noct?”  Gladio sounded completely shell-shocked.  “Was that…?  Uh…?”</p>
<p>Noct cleared his throat, still keeping his back to the room.  “Lady Lunafreya?  Oracle of Eos, Princess of Tenebrae…  She and I were engaged before?  Yeah.”</p>
<p>“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Master Gladiolus,” Luna said from the safety of the hallway.  “I’ve heard a lot about you from Noctis and Lady Iris.  …Though I will admit I didn’t expect to meet quite so much of you, just now?”  She paused.  “Although your tattoos are lovely.”</p>
<p>The strangled whimper that came out of Gladio was just <em>perfect</em>. </p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>Leaving Gladio—finally clothed—in the company of his sister and Luna, Noctis went down to the front entrance of the Citadel with Monica.  He no longer needed his father’s cane for support, which was progress, though whatever happened in the next few minutes might change that.</p>
<p>Cor was at the bottom of the steps already, Noct heading down to join him as Monica went back inside.  Two trucks pulled into the circular drive, Imperial markings on both, which made Noctis do a double take until he realized the insignia were slashed with black spray paint.</p>
<p>Cor glanced at him.  “I’m surprised Gladiolus isn’t with you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, he wanted to be,” Noctis said.  “I left him smoothing over a minor international incident.”</p>
<p>Cor’s gaze sharpened.  “A what?”</p>
<p>Noctis stifled a grin.  “Ask him later.”  <em>Oh man, </em>he’d pay for tickets just to watch that conversation. </p>
<p>The trucks came to a stop, and Noct sobered.  <em>Here goes nothing</em>.</p>
<p>The passenger door of the first truck opened and Aranea Highwind, former Niflheim Commodore, stepped out in head-to-toe black leather, her silver hair—longer than he remembered—plaited down her back.  She reached into the bed of the truck for a gleaming, pointed lance that she fit into a strap behind her right shoulder. </p>
<p>Slipping out of the truck with Aranea was a preteen girl with light brown hair.  She wore hunter’s clothes with leather boots and a vest, with a dagger strapped to her hip.</p>
<p>All the air in the world left Noct’s lungs. </p>
<p>It got worse when the doors of the second truck opened and two blond boys spilled out with unruly hair, freckles, little black leather gloves and outfits…  They were the spitting image of his best friend and it cleaved Noct’s heart in two.  The boys jabbed at each other as if cooped up too long in the car; they were slightly taller, perhaps slightly older than the girl.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why didn’t you tell me, Prom?</em>
</p>
<p>“Knock it off, you two, come on.”  Aranea gestured at them and sauntered over to Noct, placing a hand on her hip and giving him a mild once-over.  “Well, kids.  Meet your uncle, I guess.  You’ve got about five minutes before I kick his ass, so enjoy it while you can.”</p>
<p>Noct struggled to find a response to that as the kids pressed close, staring up at him.</p>
<p>“You’re the king, huh?” the girl asked.</p>
<p>“I…”</p>
<p>Cor sighed.  “Lady Highwind, threats against His Majesty’s welfare—”</p>
<p>Aranea snorted.  “‘<em>Lady Highwind</em>’?  You’re just asking to get up close and personal with my new lance, Cor.  I’d be happy to acquaint the two of you.”  She shifted, the sunlight glinting off its razor-sharp tip.</p>
<p>Cor <em>almost</em> smiled.  “Cid’s handiwork?”</p>
<p>“Only the finest, since the king here decided to break all my toys.”</p>
<p>“I did what?” Noct asked.</p>
<p>“Later.”  Aranea fixed him with a glare.  “First things first, pretty boy.  Where is he?”</p>
<p>-x-</p>
<p>“What is ‘stasis’?”  The girl’s name was Espie.  She peered up at Noct with reddish-brown eyes and waited for his answer.</p>
<p>“It’s…kind of like being asleep?  But different.”  The elevator hummed around them.  “It’s not really a coma, either.  It’s like everything’s just…stopped.”</p>
<p>Espie’s eyes narrowed, clearly not satisfied with his response.</p>
<p>“Is my dad gonna die?” one of the twins asked.  They were Benin and Zorian.  The two boys were orbiting the rest of them around the perimeter of the elevator—a continuous, square loop that made Noct dizzy and didn’t help him tell them apart one bit.</p>
<p>“That doesn’t make sense,” Espie said.</p>
<p>“I don’t think he’s going to die.  It just might…take him a while to wake up.”  Noct looked down at Espie.  “It doesn’t make sense to the doctors, either.”</p>
<p>“But you’re not, like, <em>sure</em>,” one of the boys said.  “So he still <em>might</em> die, huh?”</p>
<p>“How long is ‘a while’?” the other twin asked.</p>
<p>“Then who <em>does</em> it make sense to?”</p>
<p>Noct looked helplessly at Aranea and Cor, but both of them were staring straight ahead and seemed disinclined to provide any assistance whatsoever.  <em>Thanks, guys</em>.  He glanced up at the floor numbers ticking by as they ascended.  “I don’t know how long it’s going to take.  The Crystal—”  <em>Ugh</em>, did he really want to try to explain the Crystal?</p>
<p>One of the boys broke off orbiting and came to stand next to his sister, staring up at Noct with a perfect replica of Prompto’s ice-blue eyes.  “My dad said you were in the Crystal for years.”</p>
<p>“…Yeah.”</p>
<p>“How many years?” Espie asked.</p>
<p>“Ten years.”</p>
<p>The children’s eyes widened.</p>
<p>“That’s longer than I’ve been <em>alive</em>,” the boy said, his nose crinkling.</p>
<p>“Is my dad gonna be in <em>stasis</em> for ten years?” Espie asked.</p>
<p><em>I sure as hell hope not</em>.  “I don’t know.  I don’t…” <em>think so</em>.  But should he <em>say </em>that?  Gladio had only been ‘asleep’ for a month and the Crystal was notably dimmer.  It couldn’t possibly take a <em>decade</em> to heal Prom and Ignis.  The Crystal wouldn’t last that long.  Years, though?  <em>Oh God, please no.</em></p>
<p>“<em>Eighteen</em>.  Am I gonna be <em>eighteen</em> before my dad’s awake again?” the boy asked.</p>
<p>Noct inhaled.  “I don’t—”</p>
<p>“Alright, Zor.”  Aranea’s hand landed on the boy’s head, ruffling his hair a little.  “Rein it in a bit, huh?”</p>
<p>Noctis shot her a look of gratitude via their reflections in the elevator door.  But the sharp look he got in return made it clear she hadn’t done that for his sake, but for the boy’s.</p>
<p>Zorian huffed a sigh and turned around.</p>
<p>They switched elevators on the 20<sup>th</sup> floor, then took the stairs up to the Crystal’s antechamber.  As the kids bounded up the steps around Aranea, Noct’s sense of guilt returned, tenfold.  Prom’s kids were about to see their father injured and motionless, because of <em>him</em>.  Would it scar them for life? </p>
<p>Monica was waiting for them with the vault doors already open.</p>
<p>“It’s glowing?” the other twin—Benin—said and rushed inside, his siblings hot on his heels.</p>
<p>Noctis allowed Aranea to precede him through the inner door.</p>
<p>The children’s rapid footsteps slowed and came to a stop.  They fell silent for a long, long moment.</p>
<p>“…<em>Dad?</em>” Espie’s whisper, hesitant and fearful, punched a fresh hole in Noctis’s chest.</p>
<p>He hung back, a hard lump in his throat as the kids crowded around Prompto’s cot but stayed an arm’s length away, as if they were afraid to go any closer, afraid to try to touch him.</p>
<p>Aranea went straight in, her eyes flicking over the vitals monitor before she pressed her fingers to Prompto’s wrist, then to the side of his neck…  She hovered her cheek above his mouth and nose, eyes focused on the stillness of his bandaged chest.  Her forehead creased; she closed her eyes and drew back.  For five seconds she stood there, jaw flexing, breathing, then she whirled, pinning Noct with her gaze.</p>
<p>She got right in his face and Noct didn’t bother to hide his flinch.</p>
<p>“I’d seriously kick your ass if you didn’t look like death warmed over.”</p>
<p>Noct exhaled.  “Hey, have at it.”  <em>You’ve got every right.</em></p>
<p>Her eyes narrowed.  “Don’t get me wrong.  The Dawn’s great.  Without it, we’d all die.  And, I get it.  If they’re alive—” she waved towards Prom and Ignis “—and you’re not, they’ve failed.”</p>
<p>The knife through his heart twisted.</p>
<p>“But had I known <em>this</em> would be the result, I might’ve tried harder to stop him.”</p>
<p><em>Might’ve</em>.  Because she was a soldier; because she understood.  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>Aranea snorted.  “It’s worth crap, but thanks anyways.”  She glanced back, checking on the kids.</p>
<p>They’d apparently gotten over their fear of getting close to Prompto; the boys seemed to be daring each other to peek under his bandages while Espie checked Prom’s vitals like Aranea had, continuously looking between his body and the vitals screen. </p>
<p>“Mom, is thirty-five degrees normal?”</p>
<p>“It’s low, babe.” </p>
<p>“Huh.”  Espie put one hand on Prom’s forehead and the other on her own, and gazed up at the monitor.</p>
<p>Aranea turned back to Noct, bracing a hand on her hip.  “And another thing.  Next time you’re gonna reinvent the way the world works, some warning, OK?  So I can land the fleet instead of Biggs and Wedge having to dead-stick it into the ground.”</p>
<p>“The…”  Noct blinked.  “Huh?”</p>
<p>“Magitek.  It’s gone, poof.  Just like that.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Sun shows up and I’ve got airships falling out of the sky.”</p>
<p><em>Oh.</em>  “The Magitek cores, powered by—”</p>
<p>“<em>Were</em> powered by, yeah.  Plenty of daemonic miasma during the night.  My guys got real good at flying.  That’s all that saved their asses when everything cut out.”  Aranea folded her arms.  “They happened to be down near the Cape, checking on what’s left of the navy.  Took ‘em a while to get back, as you might imagine.”</p>
<p>Noct inhaled, anxious.  “They made it?”</p>
<p>“Banged up, but breathing.”</p>
<p>Relief flooded him.  Honestly, he didn’t need even one more death on his conscience right now.  “Didn’t really…sort out that it was gonna do that.”</p>
<p>“Ten years in the Crystal and then balls-out, blazing to save the world.”  She flicked her eyes towards the ceiling.  “Heaven-forbid you make a <em>plan.</em>”</p>
<p>Noctis winced.  “Planning’s…not really my thing.”  He glanced, out of habit, at Ignis.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Aranea followed his gaze.  “I get that.”  She sighed.  “Whatever <em>he</em> dreamed up, must’ve worked.”</p>
<p>Noct looked down at the floor.</p>
<p>“I’d say he deserves better than you, but I guess that’s not my call.”</p>
<p><em>Yeah</em>.  Noct couldn’t say he disagreed.</p>
<p>Aranea moved away from him.  “Come on, kids.  We’re gonna do manual labor with Grandpa Cor until you’re tired enough to sleep.”</p>
<p>“Can’t I stay with Dad?” one of the boys asked. </p>
<p>“We’ll check back,” Aranea said, heading for the exit. </p>
<p>The children peeled away from Prom with a chorus of “Bye, Dad,” “See you later, Dad” and trotted off after Aranea.</p>
<p>She stopped before the inner door and glanced back, silhouetted by the light in the control room with her lance over her shoulder.  “If he wakes up and you don’t <em>immediately</em> call me—”</p>
<p>Noct threw up his hands, palms out.  “Got it.”</p>
<p>Aranea left.  He heard the kids’ voices intermixed with Cor’s for a moment, then all the sounds receded towards the antechamber.</p>
<p>Noct dropped into the folding chair he kept there—his usual daily haunt—and scrubbed his face with both hands.  <em>You guys all deserved better</em>.  Maybe if he’d actually talked through it with them, head-on, rather than dancing around it because it hurt too much to think about…  Maybe things could’ve been different.  Maybe he could’ve taken on Ardyn with an <em>army</em>.</p>
<p>And maybe the death toll would’ve been worse. </p>
<p>He sighed, suddenly tired.  All of the emotional whiplash was catching up with him, probably.  That, and he hadn’t exactly slept much between grieving yesterday and Gladio waking in the middle of the night.  A nap would be nice.  Too bad they cleared out the third cot already.</p>
<p>Gladio found him there, some minutes—hours?—later.  “Huh.  Thought you’d at least have a black eye.”</p>
<p>Noctis glanced up at him.  Gladio looked a lot better—almost normal—washed up and dressed in his mended kingsglaive uniform, his hair half pulled back into a tail.  He still moved a bit stiffly, but didn’t seem to be in much pain, or at least wasn’t going to show it.  He probably looked better than Noct did.</p>
<p>Certainly better than Noct <em>felt</em>.  He hunched forward in the chair.  “He never mentioned the kids.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Gladio said.  “You get why he didn’t.”</p>
<p>“He still didn’t have to.  You guys didn’t have to—”</p>
<p>“Had to.”  Gladio got in his face, looming over him.  “I got no regrets.  The guys won’t either when they wake up.”</p>
<p>Noct straightened, his shoulders hitting the chairback as he looked up at his friend and Shield.  Gladio was one hundred percent not kidding.  Of course.  Noct drew a breath and let it out slowly.  “When they wake up,” he murmured.</p>
<p>“Yeah.  <em>When</em>.”  Gladio folded his arms.  “You know what?  I ain’t all that mad about this.  Ten years we waited for your ass.”  He kicked Noct’s left shoe lightly.  “<em>Ten years</em>.  And you’re whining about a month.”  He smirked.  “Kinda feels good to be missed.”</p>
<p>Noct scowled at him.  “Asshole.”</p>
<p>…He had a point, though.</p>
<p>Gladio smiled and moved off, giving Prompto and Ignis a once over.  “Veggie-state, huh?”  He glanced at the monitors.  “Temp’s low.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”  Noct got up, joining him.  “Yours rose before you woke up.”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“Like it was flat and then ramped up—”  He mimed the curve in the air with his hand.  “What’s that type of graph called again?”</p>
<p>“You’re asking the wrong guy that question.”</p>
<p>Noct snorted.  “<em>Anyway</em>.  Luna was right about it healing you.”  He waved at the Crystal, its glow noticeably fainter compared to yesterday.</p>
<p>Gladio stepped closer to it, though he kept well out of arms’ reach.  Blue bathed the mild look of distrust on his face.  Eventually, he shrugged, his expression softening.  “You’d figure she knows her stuff.  I see why the two of you get along so well.  You tend to get attached to people who have answers, who help you make decisions.  As much as you say you hate it.”</p>
<p>“That is <em>not</em> true.”  And if he did like people like that…a little…Noct didn’t see why it was a <em>problem.</em></p>
<p>“Right.”  Gladio glanced at him askance.  “And you’ve just <em>accidentally</em> locked lips with Iggy on multiple occasions.”</p>
<p>Noct’s face heated.  “Not…  Not <em>that</em> many times,” he muttered.  Just in Gralea, and at their campsite, and on the Citadel steps.  It was <em>hardly</em> as much kissing as Gladio made it sound like. </p>
<p>Although Gralea was kind of a lot.  And, honestly, the first thing Noct was going to do when Ignis woke up <em>probably</em> involved kissing him.</p>
<p>“If you say so.”</p>
<p><em>Like you’re one to talk</em>.  “Hey, so.  <em>Armiger</em>.”  Noct headed for the other side of the room.</p>
<p>“Yeah.  What’s up with it?”</p>
<p>Noct flicked the spotlight on and waved him over.  “Don’t know.  It’s failing as the Crystal dies, I guess.  Stuff’s just popping out.”</p>
<p>“What kind of stuff?”  Gladio came up behind him, peering over his shoulder.  “That’s a…  That’s a lot of fishing lures, Noct.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“I mean, even admitting some of them are mine.  Did you really—”</p>
<p>“<em>I know</em>.”  He pointed at Gladio’s bin.  “Here.  Your stuff so far.”</p>
<p>“Nice.”  Gladio dropped to a crouch, sifting through the bin’s contents.</p>
<p>Noct crouched beside him.  “Couple pictures came out.”  He kept his voice casual, watching Gladio from the corner of his eye.  “I put them in the front of the book.  Since, you know, they seemed important.”</p>
<p>Gladio glanced at him and picked up the book, opening the front cover.  He took out the pictures, looking at them, maintaining a perfect poker face all the while.</p>
<p>“So…?”</p>
<p>“So what?”  Gladio asked, leaning back to tuck the photos into an inner pocket of his jacket. </p>
<p>“You gonna tell me about her or not?”</p>
<p>“Uh, <em>not</em>.”</p>
<p>Noct rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.”</p>
<p>Gladio exhaled.  “Her name’s Valora.  We met hunting.”</p>
<p>“And…?”</p>
<p>“And you’re an adult now.”  Gladio smirked.  “You can figure out the rest.”</p>
<p>“<em>Ugh</em>.”  Noct shoved him away and got up.</p>
<p>“You asked.”</p>
<p><em>Instantly regretting it now</em>.  Like he needed any details of his friends’ love lives.  This Prom and Aranea thing was surprising enough.  “The boys are eight, huh?”  Noct folded his arms, glancing at the Crystal as Gladio continued to rifle through his bin behind him.  “So it must’ve been pretty soon after I got sucked into the Crystal—”</p>
<p>“Oh no,” Gladio said, getting up and wrapping him in a loose headlock.  “You’re not getting anything out of me.  You ask him when he wakes up.  Or ask Aranea if you’re feeling lucky.  In fact, I dare you.  It’d be hilarious.”</p>
<p>Noct pushed his arm off.  “<em>Grandpa</em> Cor probably knows.”</p>
<p>“Sure.  Think you’ll get anything out of him?”</p>
<p><em>Not in a million years.</em>  “What time is it, anyways?” Noct asked, flicking the light off and heading for the vault door.</p>
<p>“Almost time for Jeanne’s briefing.  For the Crestholm mission tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Noct perked up.  “Right.”</p>
<p>Gladio shook his head.  “Don’t look so eager.  <em>You’re</em> not going.”</p>
<p>“Hey, why not?”  Noct frowned.  “I’m <em>healed</em>.”  He hadn’t had to wear the brace for two whole days now.  “No one knows the Channel better than us.  We were just—”</p>
<p>“Not ‘just,’” Gladio said as they nodded to Dustin in the control room and crossed the antechamber for the stairs.  “Ten <em>years</em> ago.  You know who’s the expert now?  I’ll give you a hint.  She punches things.  <em>Hard</em>.”</p>
<p>“So Iris is going.” </p>
<p>“And Aranea’s backing her up.”</p>
<p>Noct hit the button when they got to the elevator.  “Then who’s watching the kids?”</p>
<p>“Cor babysits the Imps, I babysit you.  The ladies’ve got it all worked out.”</p>
<p>Noct sighed, drawing it out.  “The <em>Imps.</em>”  They boarded the lift when it arrived.</p>
<p>“‘Cause they’re Imperial.  But they’re also—”</p>
<p>“<em>I get it</em>.”  He jabbed the button for the 20<sup>th</sup> floor.</p>
<p>Gladio was silent for a moment, but Noct could feel him looking, could <em>hear</em> him preparing his lecture voice—</p>
<p>“You’re the king, Noct.  You don’t get to go diving head-first into danger anymore.”</p>
<p>Should’ve figured this was coming.  It just…wasn’t a concern before.  <em>I wasn’t supposed to live long enough to actually be king</em>.  He looked up at Gladio, his Shield—at the sober, steely look in Gladio’s brown eyes.  –This man who would get in front of anything to protect him.</p>
<p>“Hey, did…um…”  It was hard to force the words out.  “Did Iris tell you?  Yesterday, we—”</p>
<p>Gladio looked away, a shadow crossing his face.  “Yeah, she told me.”</p>
<p>A now familiar heaviness weighed on Noct’s shoulders.  “Gladio, I’m—”</p>
<p>“<em>Don’t</em>.”  Gladio met his gaze, his eyes sharp.  “My dad died doing exactly what he should have—protecting the king he loved.”  He turned, facing Noct fully.  “If you go, it’s through me.  That’s the way it should be.  Not this ‘running off to sacrifice yourself alone’ bullshit.”  Gladio scowled.  “Love you too much, you idiot.”</p>
<p>Noct’s eyes widened and Gladio actually blushed.</p>
<p>“Damnit,” Gladio muttered.  “You’ve got me doing it too, now.  Why’d you have to get all sappy on us?”</p>
<p>Noct glanced away.  <em>Because Iggy told me first.</em>  The elevator chimed, the lift slowing as they reached the 20<sup>th</sup> floor.  “Wanted you to know,” he murmured as they stepped out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>M.E. 766, October 25<sup>th</sup></em>
</p><p>“We’re supposed to be there at nine, right?” Gladio asked, moving ahead to get the door.</p><p>“Yup.”  Noct waited while Gladio opened the door and glanced inside—doing his Shield thing—before allowing him to enter.  “Thanks.”</p><p>“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?”</p><p>“Eh.”  Noct headed into his outer office, morning sunshine suffusing into the room from patterned windows on the right-hand wall.  “Just figure I should check on stuff before we go.”</p><p>The room hadn’t changed much in the decades he’d been alive.  It was a functional, gatekeeper space with velvet-upholstered chairs and old artwork on the walls.  The paintings were probably rare collector’s items, but he never had much of an eye for them as a kid and still didn’t now.  Maybe someday he’d refresh things, but it wasn’t a near-term priority.</p><p>His assistant rose from her desk, lowering her glasses to rest on a chain against her black cardigan and green blouse.  “Good morning, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Good morning, Ms. Michela.”  Noctis stopped at the edge of her immaculate desk—keyboard, monitor, phone, and notepad set <em>just so</em>—a few steps in front of the door to his inner office.  “Any messages?”</p><p>“Oh, only a couple of things this morning,” she said, taking a memo from her notepad and re-donning her glasses in the same motion, her head angled to avoid catching her black and silver curls.  “A group of hunters requesting permission to scout several blocks in the south-east sector, three refugee families asking to return to their homes rather than stay in the approved apartments, and Mr. Dorden called wanting to know what you’d be wearing to the substation test this morning.”</p><p>“Vyv wants to know what I’m wearing,” Noct said, amused. </p><p>Gladio snorted.  “A complete monopoly on all newspapers in Insomnia at the moment and <em>that’s</em> what he wants to write about.  Rather than, say, the <em>substation</em> and all of Jeanne’s hard work.”</p><p>“I’m sure it’ll get covered.  Or he’ll be hearing about it from me.”  Noct turned back to his assistant.  “What did you tell him?”</p><p>Ms. Michela folded her arms, peering at him over the top of her glasses.  “That it would certainly be a black suit and that His Majesty wasn’t likely to bother with a tie.”  She gave him a brief once-over with a bland expression.  “Which I see is the case.”</p><p>Noct made a show of brushing off his lapel.  “The verdict?”</p><p>“Passable.”  She exhaled.  “At least it’s Azzarà.”</p><p>Noctis smiled.  “I’ll take it.  Have…Cor talk to the hunters and send the refugee families to Dustin.  Monica will be at the substation with us, so she’s not available at least for the morning.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“I’ll be in my office.”  He moved towards the inner door, again letting his Shield check things out first.  “Luna’s meeting me down here when she’s ready.”</p><p>“I’ll let you know when Her Highness arrives.”</p><p>“Thanks, Ms. Michela.” </p><p>Noct went inside, Gladio closing the door quietly behind them.</p><p>In many ways, it was still his father’s office—at least that was how he thought of it, even if much of the décor and the old books on the shelves predated King Regis.  So far, Noct had only moved the furniture around and carefully packed away his father’s keepsakes—save one framed photo of them together when he was very young, gathered in his father’s arms with both of them smiling for the camera.  It waited for him on the corner of the desk, next to a haphazard array of sticky notes and the laptop they’d scrounged up for him.  Sunlight streamed in through the ornate, floor-to-ceiling windows on the right side of the room, lending a sheen to the leather furniture and patterned marble floors.  Ms. Michela had tidied up a few things—like the jacket he’d left strewn across one of the sofas yesterday—and she’d refilled the pitcher of water on the bar for him.  But she’d left his desk alone and that was one reason—one of several—that she’d lasted longer than the other assistant candidates that had worked for him on a trial basis over the last few weeks.  Not that the others hadn’t been enthusiastic and happy to serve, but they’d been young, hunter-types mostly, who hadn’t grown up with landline phones and word processors.  They could scout ruins, caves, and collapsed buildings all day long, but couldn’t navigate their way through a spreadsheet to save their lives.  Ms. Michela, on the other hand, came with actual credentials and an extensive <em>curriculum vitae</em>.</p><p>Noct headed for the bar on the back wall to pour himself a glass of water.</p><p>“Need me for anything?” Gladio asked.</p><p>“Nah.  Not until Luna gets here.”  He lingered by the windows, sipping from his glass and enjoying the feel of the sun on his face for a moment.</p><p>“You know where I’ll be.”</p><p>“Yup.” </p><p>Gladio headed through the door on the opposite wall—into the office that would be Ignis’s.  He left the door cracked, just in case—Gladio had a thing about keeping Noct within earshot these days.  The first few nights, his Shield even insisted on sleeping in a spare room in Noct’s apartment, rather than in his own apartment, which was just across the hall.  Noct hadn’t bothered to argue.  After two weeks, Gladio was finally mellowing out a bit.  It was just going to take time, probably—figuring out their new duties and redefining normal.</p><p>Well.  Nothing would really be normal until it was the <em>four</em> of them again, not just two. </p><p>Noctis went to his desk and sat down, perusing his sticky notes, shuffling a few into different places.  They <em>were</em> organized.  That no one else could see the pattern but him wasn’t his failing.  Ignis would probably sigh at him for it, but he wasn’t ever going to <em>see</em> them now was he?</p><p>And just like that, the ever-present undercurrent of grief he tried so hard to suppress rose up again, crawling up to his shoulders and pushing down on him, unignorable and heavy.  Noct closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  <em>Not today</em>.  He knew going in that today would be harder than most, yet he was determined to keep a light-hearted mood. </p><p>Because Prompto wouldn’t want all of them crying on his birthday.  Tomorrow if Noct wanted to fall apart, he would, but not today.</p><p>He just about had himself together when the intercom on his desk chimed.  Noct reached for it, depressing the button.  “Yes?”</p><p>“Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty,” Ms. Michela said.  “General Highwind is here to see you.”</p><p>“Not on official army business,” he heard Aranea say in the background, as deadpan as always.</p><p>“A personal visit, sir.”</p><p>Noct smiled despite himself.  “Send her in.”  She <em>probably</em> wasn’t stopping by to kick his ass—hadn’t threatened to since the first time.  Though, it was a special occasion.</p><p>He rounded his desk as the door opened, admitting Aranea with a cardboard box propped on one hip. </p><p>“Kids wanna decorate.”  She plopped the box down on the coffee table in the front half of the room.  “I’m not gonna hear you complain, am I?”</p><p>Noct came over, sidestepping the couch, peering into the box—it was full of packaged streamers, balloons, party hats, and noise makers.  <em>Oh good, noise makers</em>.  “Nope,” he said, reaching in for a pack of miniature top hats covered in glitter.  “Where’d you find all this stuff?”</p><p>“Party store a couple blocks east, only partially caved in.  Found the place during our morning run.”</p><p>Noct shook his head.  “Still can’t believe you get kids that age to do that.”</p><p>“Gotta start ‘em early.”  She raised her voice.  “Ain’t that right, big guy?”</p><p>“Never too young to start ‘em training,” Gladio said from the next room.  “Else they grow up to be spoiled, coddled princes like—”</p><p>Noct walked over and shut the door between the offices.</p><p>“We’ll keep most of the action outside the vault,” Aranea said.  “Most of it.”</p><p>“It’s fine.  Special occasion, special rules.”  He tossed the package of hats back into the box and dropped down to sit on the couch.  “When’re the kids’ birthdays?”</p><p>“April.”  Aranea leaned her hip against the opposite sofa.  “We do what we can to make a big deal about it.”</p><p>“I’ll put the dates in my calendar.”</p><p>Aranea snorted fondly.  “Oh, they won’t let you forget it.”  She glanced at the windows—at the daylight outside.  “Actually, the kids threw you a nice party this year.  Should’ve convinced the Crystal to let you out a week early on good behavior.  Could’ve been there.”</p><p>“Yeah?”  Noct tried to keep his voice from cracking.  It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned marking the years he’d been gone.</p><p>Aranea shrugged.  “It was something to look forward to.  Every year, Prompto always—”  She cut herself off, face shuttered.  </p><p>They lapsed into a silence thick with the underlying pain neither of them wanted to bring up.</p><p>A knock came at the door. </p><p>Noct straightened, grateful for the distraction.  “Come in.”</p><p>The door opened, his assistant pausing in the doorway.  “King Noctis, Her Highness will be arriving presently.”  Ms. Michela’s eyes flicked over him.  “You might tidy yourself up a bit before she gets here.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.”  Noct almost smiled.  “Thank you, Ms. Michela.”</p><p>His assistant nodded and closed the door.</p><p>“Paying her to nag you, too?” Aranea asked, picking up the box.</p><p>“Yes, I am.”</p><p>“She’s attempt number…what?  Five?”</p><p>“Four.”  Noct scowled.  Like he was <em>that</em> picky.  “I think she’s a keeper.”  He reached for the intercom on the side table.  “Hey Gladio, Luna’s on her way.”</p><p>There was a pause—a somewhat lengthy pause—before the intercom crackled in response.  “Got it!” Gladio said.</p><p>“He’s…still figuring it out,” Noct said.</p><p>Aranea glanced at the device.  “Wow.  Four whole buttons.” </p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct smiled wryly.  “Pretty serious tech, huh?” </p><p>She nodded towards the adjacent office.  “Is he actually doing work in there?”</p><p>“Heck no.  Well, he says he’s reviewing stuff, but he’s mostly texting his girlfriend now that Insomnia’s back on the grid.”</p><p>“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  Desk jobs.”  Aranea headed for the door with her box, giving a little wave.  “Later, Majesty.  We’ll have this done before you get back.”</p><p>“Sounds good.”</p><p>She left and Noctis got up, heading through the door behind his desk and into his private lounge.  In addition to a restroom, it had a sofa, daybed, closet, and a shower—everything he could possibly need for relaxing a bit during the workday.  Plus, an angled, three-sided mirror that ran floor to ceiling.  Noctis freshened up and stood before it, smoothing his jacket, finger-combing his hair around a face he was slowly starting to get used to.</p><p>Gladio wandered in, hovering in the open doorway.  “Primping.”</p><p>“King’s gotta look like one, right?”  Damnit, he really <em>should</em> wear a tie.  Noctis headed for the closet, pulling drawers open until he found his dad’s ties.  He picked a black one with a subtle gold stripe.  It took him a couple of tries in front of the mirror to get it properly tied.  “Out of practice,” he muttered, stifling a sigh.</p><p>“Don’t ask me for help,” Gladio said.  “If you can’t ask—”</p><p><em>Ignis</em>.  Noct grimaced; Gladio looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.</p><p>“Next best bet is asking her Ladyship.”  Gladio folded his arms.  “She’s getting good at it.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noctis worked the knot up to his throat, tucking the rest of the tie inside his jacket.</p><p>“Ten gil says she upstages you today.”</p><p>He smiled.  “Like hell I’m taking that bet.”</p><p>There was a knock at the door to his office.  “Your Majesty?”</p><p>“Yes.”  Noctis came back into the room, Gladio following.  “Send her in.”</p><p>The door opened, Ms. Michela holding it for Luna as she walked in wearing a tailored black suit, perfectly knotted tie, and a long cream overcoat with matching heels.  Her hair was down, curling over her left shoulder, and gold drop earrings hung sparkling from her ears, finished with flecks of sapphire.  She absolutely outshone him and he didn’t mind one bit.</p><p>“Ready, Noctis?” she asked, regarding him with a warm smile.</p><p>Noctis grabbed his coat from the rack near the door.  “Good to go.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Monica drove the three of them to the substation on the western edge of the city.  The facility was adjacent to the bridge to Leide, tucked against the Wall and surrounded by concrete fortifications.  It had largely escaped damage during the Niflheim attack and during the Night—a key factor to making today possible.  Restoring the North Power Plant was taking longer than anticipated, with only one of its four units currently operational.  But the Crestholm Channel facility was online, thanks to Iris and Aranea’s successful recon and the subsequent repairs done by a combined team of EXINERIS and Insomnian personnel.  Its full capacity was more than enough to power the limited parts of the city currently in use, so they had wattage to spare.  The west substation controlled the connection between Insomnia’s grid and the infrastructure in Leide.</p><p>Today’s test was the culmination of weeks of grueling work by countless engineers and technicians.  If it worked, they would be one step closer to their goal of powering Lucis.  And none too soon, with Lestallum down to trace amounts of heat from the meteorshards.  They were, daily, at risk of failing completely.</p><p>They drove through the gates of the facility and up to the entrance where a crowd of workers and hunters had gathered to meet them, plus Vyv Dorden and a photographer he’d brought with him from Lestallum.  Up until now, Noctis had shielded Jeanne’s team from the requests of the fledgling Insomnian media, so they could actually get things done.  But they’d all agreed that today’s milestone warranted the attention.</p><p>Gladio got the door and Noctis stepped out, waving in response to calls of “Good morning, Your Majesty.”  He reached into the car for Luna’s hand, her fingers curling warmly around his palm, allowing him to steady her as she climbed from the vehicle.</p><p>Jeanne Labreigh was at the center of the group, looking sharp in her hunter’s garb with her short hair freshly trimmed.  There wasn’t much to be done about the fatigue shadowing her eyes and those of all the others, but she looked eager and ready as she came down to meet them.  “‘Morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness.  Prechecks are done and we’re ready to get started.”</p><p>“It’s your show, Jeanne,” Noctis said, trying to ignore Vyv’s hovering nearby and the sounds of the photographer’s camera.  “We’ll do our best to stay out of the way.”</p><p>“And should we fail in that regard, do call us out,” Luna said.  “Don’t think twice about it.”</p><p>Jeanne smiled.  She stepped aside, gesturing for them to follow.  “This way, please.”</p><p>It was a short walk through a secured area to the control room; Noctis could hear the hum of electricity through the thick, concrete walls—it was a welcome sound.</p><p>Fluorescent lights lit the room from above, a railing separating the walkway from the technicians’ stations on the control room floor.  One entire wall of the room was given to a display of the major transmission lines in this section of the city with red and green lights, digital readouts, and a lot of symbology Noctis wouldn’t hazard a guess to, other than those items that were labeled ‘source’ or ‘load.’  A handwritten label had been added to one branch of the circuit, near a glowing red light and several readouts that currently showed at or near zero—<em>Hammerhead</em>.  The control stations were in the center of the floor, facing the display, while racks of air-cooled equipment lined the remaining walls, blower fans running.</p><p>Noctis stood against the railing with Gladio and Luna as Jeanne and her team took their stations on the control room floor.</p><p>Jeanne was on the left in front of the radio.  “EXINERIS, this is Insomnia, checking in.”</p><p>“EXINERIS has got you loud and clear, Insomnia.”  Holly’s voice came from speakers set in the ceiling.  “We’re ready.”</p><p>“Hammerhead, Insomnia, checking in.”</p><p>“We’ve got you five-by-five, Insomnia,” Cindy said, her warm, familiar drawl coming through the speakers and reminding Noctis of smiles and bright sunshine.  “We’re all ready over here.”</p><p>“Comm checks are complete and we’re showing green on our end,” Jeanne said.  “As briefed, we’ll start with the manual switchover.  Assuming that goes well, we’ll proceed with automatic switching, fault protection, and protective shutdowns.”  She drew a breath.  “When ready, EXINERIS, I’ll have you cut power to Hammerhead station.”</p><p>Noctis felt the weight of the moment, the anticipation in the room along with his own elevated heartrate.  He reached for Luna’s hand, needing the reassurance and grounding.  <em>Grounding</em>—there was a bad electrical pun in there somewhere.</p><p>Luna glanced at him, smiling, and squeezed his hand.</p><p>“Alright, Hammerhead, this is EXINERIS taking you offline in three, two, one…”</p><p>There was a short, ten-second pause, not that Noctis was counting in his head.</p><p>“And that’s lights out, EXINERIS,” Cindy said.  “I can confirm Hammerhead is runnin’ on backup systems.”</p><p>“Joelle,” Jeanne said off-mic, motioning to one of the technicians at the control station next to her.  Getting a nod, she keyed the mic.  “Hammerhead, this is Insomnia, connecting up in three, two, one—”</p><p>Noctis held his breath as Joelle flipped switches at her station.  The light next to Hammerhead on the display turned green, the readouts flickering alive with numbers.</p><p>“A, B, and C,” Joelle said, “we’ve got good voltage and good current.  Green across the board, Jeanne.”</p><p>Jeanne nodded.  They all waited, Noctis glancing up towards the ceiling speakers.</p><p>A soft crackle preceded Cindy’s voice.  “We got lights, y’all!”</p><p>Cheering filled the room and Noctis felt an overwhelming rush of <em>hope</em> that tightened his throat and stung his eyes.  He gripped Luna’s hand—hopefully not too hard—and ducked his face towards her shoulder, silently overcome.</p><p>“Them’s some real nice electrons, Jeanne,” Cindy said.  “We’re showing stable power over here.”</p><p>“EXINERIS concurs, Insomnia and Hammerhead, our instruments have good readings.”</p><p>“That’s…great to hear, Hammerhead, EXINERIS,” Jeanne said, her voice thick with a myriad of emotions—relief, pride, and so much more wrapped up in her words.  She drew a breath—all business again when she next spoke.  “Alright, we’re gonna do a five-minute hold here.  If everything stays clean, we’ll move on to the auto-switching tests, next.”</p><p>As she unkeyed the microphone, everyone cheered again.  Noctis composed himself, meeting Luna’s gleaming eyes and warm smile as he drew back, mindful of the media presence and needing to give them the right photo op besides.  As those in the room took turns clapping each other on the back and shaking hands, Noctis leaned over the railing.</p><p>“Jeanne.”</p><p>She turned and came over, taking the hand he offered.</p><p>“Great work,” he said, clasping her hand firmly.  “You and your whole team.”</p><p>She smiled at him, her eyes bright with the same hope that filled his chest.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Testing ran throughout the morning.  By the end of it, all three locations agreed that Hammerhead would stay powered by Insomnia.  In the coming days, Jeanne and the EXINERIS team would work to extend Insomnia’s power throughout the EXINERIS grid, west to Lestallum and south to all the outposts and farms throughout Lucis.  It was going to be a busy week for them, but they were already so much closer to a stable power situation for the coming winter. </p><p>There were more photo ops, after, and Vyv interviewed Jeanne, Joelle, and other members of the team for the story he was putting together.  Lunch was at one of the schools nearby—a designated meal site for all of the workers and hunters in this part of the city.  It was the same canned fare served at the Citadel—nothing fancy—but it was nice to have a relaxed meal with Jeanne and her crew, to spend time chatting and thanking them for their tireless efforts over the last several weeks.  It was definitely one of Noct’s favorite meals since the Dawn.</p><p>Returning to the Citadel, he was riding high on the morning’s success—on <em>hope</em>—thrilled that something had worked despite how bleak it all seemed mere weeks ago.  Noct stopped by his office, picking up messages from Ms. Michela and relishing moving some of his sticky notes to the <em>Done</em> pile while Gladio hung out next door.  Overall, he probably added more tasks than he completed, but it was still satisfying.</p><p>His intercom chimed.</p><p>Noct paused his rearranging.  “Yes?”</p><p>“The marshal to see you, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Sure, send him in.”  He went back to shuffling his sticky notes, marking a few of them with a pen as Cor strode into the room in his kingsglaive uniform.</p><p>Noct glanced up, and his heart immediately sank when he saw the folder in Cor’s hand.</p><p>“I have some dossiers for you.”</p><p>Noctis pressed his lips.  “This again.”  He set his pen down, a sour feeling churning in his stomach.</p><p>Cor came to the edge of his desk and placed the folder in front of him.  “I only ask that you look through them.”</p><p>He blew out a breath.  “Cor, I’m not gonna.  I told you—”</p><p>“You need a staff, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“I <em>know</em> I need a staff.”  Of course he needed a staff.  “And I’ll have one.  When my chamberlain helps me put it together.”  He would not budge on this.  He would not fill the office next door, the seats on the council, nor the rest of the administrative complex without his advisor. </p><p>They stared at each other, steel against steel, neither yielding.</p><p>Cor was the first to speak.  “Until then—”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“<em>Until then</em> you will have a temporary staff to help run things around here.  Monica, Dustin, and I cannot continue to manage everything for you with more people arriving daily.  Just this morning—”</p><p>Noctis huffed.  “What about it?”</p><p>Cor’s jaw flexed.  “Just this morning.  By the time I was able to contact the hunters, they’d already been through the area in question without any hazard briefing from us.  Dustin, when he finally got in touch with the third family you sent his way, found them headed through an off-limits part of the city towards an apartment complex we have condemned as structurally unsound.  <em>Fortunately</em>, nothing happened.  This time.”  He paused, drawing a breath and letting it out.  “We need additional help, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Cor was right and Noctis <em>hated</em> it.  He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against an unreasonable amount of anger bubbling up inside him.  Neither Cor nor the situation warranted it—he knew that.  He also knew that if they continued this conversation, he’d probably say something—maybe a lot of somethings—he’d later regret.  “I’m not doing this today.”  Noctis loosened his tie, rounding the desk and heading for the door.</p><p>“Noctis.”</p><p>“It can wait until tomorrow.”  He stopped by his assistant’s desk on the way out.  “Ms. Michela, if there are any other inquiries today, tell them nothing’s getting approved until tomorrow at the earliest.  Remind them the restrictions are in place for <em>their</em> safety and anyone found in violation will be answering to me.”</p><p>“Yes, Your Majesty.”  She took a note.  “Have a pleasant evening.”</p><p><em>I’ll try</em>.  “Thanks.”</p><p>The problem was, he couldn’t storm away from someone who was headed to the same place.  Cor trailed him to the elevator, Gladio catching up with them after a moment. </p><p>When the lift arrived, they boarded—Noct on the right, Cor on the left.  Noctis didn’t say a word, staring straight forward, and Cor didn’t either.  Gladio, taking a spot between them, just sighed.</p><p>At the bottom of the stairs to the vault’s antechamber, Iris was waiting for them with party hats. </p><p>She took one look at them and made a face.  “Wow.  What’s this drama?”</p><p>“Nothing a little booze won’t fix,” Gladio said.</p><p>Noctis hadn’t really been into drinking before—hell, he’d barely been of legal age when he was sucked into the Crystal.  But, for once, Gladio’s idea sounded fantastic.</p><p>-x-</p><p>“…I don’t understand the game.”  With a glitter-covered miniature top hat on his head—he picked the blue one—Noctis stared down at a cooler filled with ice and bottles…and the empty bucket next to it.  They were outside the control room in the antechamber amidst clusters of balloons and <em>Happy Birthday</em> banners.  Cor, Dustin, and Monica were relaxing a short distance away at a card table with drinks—clearly choosing <em>not</em> to participate.  That had to be telling.</p><p>“Beer roulette, just like I told you,” Gladio said.  Iris had given him a bright magenta party hat and it was quite the sight, all tiny on top of his huge head.  “One person picks a bottle.  We all drink,” he lifted his glass, “and everyone who <em>doesn’t</em> spit it out gets a point.” </p><p>“Yeah…”  Noctis frowned, glancing at the whiteboard on an easel next to them with all of their names on it.  “I get the mechanics.  I don’t understand why anyone would want to play this.”</p><p>“Hey, some beers get better with age!  And some taste like wet cardboard and some taste like skunk.”  Gladio grinned.  “But you don’t <em>know</em> until you drink.”</p><p>“It’s Prompto’s <em>favorite</em> game,” Iris said.  “He and Nea would bring back tons of stuff from wherever they were scouting and we’d all try it.  It’s safe, as long as it’s sealed.  It might not taste good, but it won’t get you sick.”</p><p>“Well, I’m game,” Luna said from beside him.  She’d taken off her jacket, loosened her tie, and rolled up her shirt sleeves.  She still wore her cream waistcoat and heels with her black button-up and slacks. </p><p>Noctis gaped at her.  “Luna, you?”</p><p>“Why not?  It sounds like fun,” she said.  “Who’s going to pick first?”</p><p>Gladio bowed, waving to the cooler.  “How about you, Your Highness?  Pick away.”</p><p>“Alright.”  Luna crouched down, selecting an amber bottle with a black and gold pattern on the label.  “How about this one, to start?”</p><p>“A malt, very nice.”  Gladio took it from her, using a bottle opener hanging from one of his belts to pop off the lid.  He poured an inch or so into each of their glasses.</p><p>Noctis stared down at the dark liquid in his glass with mild trepidation.  He wasn’t sure what beer was <em>supposed</em> to smell like normally, let alone after ten years, but the aroma wasn’t particularly appetizing.</p><p>Luna cleared her throat.  “Well, then, how do we…?”</p><p>Gladio gestured with his glass.  “Ladies first?”  He nudged the empty bucket towards her. </p><p>“Cheers.”  Aranea raised her glass, Iris and Luna clinking with her.</p><p>“Cheers.”</p><p>The ladies drank and Noctis watched Luna’s and Iris’s faces screw up.</p><p>Iris was the first to go for the bucket, though Luna was right beside her.</p><p>“<em>Ugh</em>.”  Iris wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.</p><p>Luna came up laughing.  “Oh my, that was <em>dreadful</em>.”</p><p>Aranea had swallowed her portion and merely shrugged.  “I’ve had worse.”  She glanced over her shoulder to check on the kids, who were running in and out of the Crystal vault with balloons and noise makers.</p><p>Gladio marked a point for her on the whiteboard.  “Come on, Noct.  Our turn.”</p><p>“Alright…”  Noct swirled the froth in his cup and tipped his head back—  As soon as the <em>swill</em> touched his tongue, he wanted to gag, his eyes watering as he bent for the bucket, just in time.  “Oh <em>f—</em>”  Coughing, he wiped his mouth, barely getting out of the way before Gladio was spitting into the bucket.  “Hey!”</p><p>“That’s the other half of the game,” Iris said, laughing.  “Not getting spit on.”</p><p>“<em>Gross</em>.”</p><p>“Woman up then,” Aranea said, reaching into the cooler for another bottle.  “Let’s give this a shot.”</p><p>Out of the half dozen or so bottles they tried, the only one Noctis was able to swallow tasted like honeyed cardboard.  Even Luna ended up with more points than him, and Aranea was the clear winner.  But in the interest of actually imbibing alcohol and not just tasting it, they switched to wine and hard liquor.</p><p>Noct opted for a glass of red wine—no reason at all—and sipped it by the dim blue light of the Crystal.  The kids had hung streamers and balloons from the ceiling and put a birthday hat on Prompto, taking turns hugging him and telling him, “Happy Birthday, Dad,” before they were off chasing each other around again.  Watching them made his chest ache, despite his wounds having long since healed.</p><p><em>Sorry, Prom.</em>  Noct swallowed a sip of wine around the lump in his throat.  <em>Wish I had a better birthday present to give you than this.</em></p><p>Gladio elbowed him in the arm.  “Alcohol making you all sappy, huh?”  He was drinking some kind of whiskey or bourbon; just the smell of it made Noct’s nose sting.</p><p>“It’s not,” Noct muttered, frowning.</p><p>“Not a bad party,” Gladio said, looking around.  “At least Prom and Iggy are here.  Kinda.” </p><p><em>Yeah…</em>  “I guess,” he said, sipping again.</p><p>A burst of high-pitched laughter drew his attention—Iris, sitting with Luna against the wall on the other side of the chamber.  She was pretty tanked, it looked like, curled around Luna’s right arm and chattering nonstop about something Noctis couldn’t make out from here.  There was a bottle of <em>sake</em> and two cups on the floor in front of them.  Luna didn’t seem nearly as drunk, or at least she wasn’t showing it like Iris was, but she also didn’t seem to mind the attention, looking content as she leaned her head against Iris’s and stroked her hair.</p><p>“If you want me to, uh, extract my sister from Her Highness, just let me know,” Gladio said.</p><p>Noctis shrugged.  “Luna doesn’t look like she needs help.”  He drank again, swallowing the velvety wine, his gaze finding Ignis.</p><p>
  <em>I poured a bit every year for your birthday.</em>
</p><p>Noct closed his eyes as the emotion welled up—hot and painful—inside him.  “Aranea said you guys threw me a party, on my birthday?”</p><p>“Nn…  Prompto and Iris and the gang, yeah.  Dunno, I just...”  Gladio sighed.  “Felt too weird without you, so I didn’t go.  Iggy didn’t either.”</p><p>Tears stung his eyes.  “You guys were alone?”  He didn’t like the way it sounded.</p><p>“Felt better that way.  I went fishing, even though there was nothing to catch.  Helped me to recenter myself.  Gear up for another year.”  There was a pause as Gladio drank.  “As for Iggy, you’d have to ask him.  He was out by the gorge this last time.  <em>Alone</em>.”  Gladio snorted.  “But we were both doing stupid, dangerous things.  Just to feel close to you, I guess.”</p><p>Noct sniffed hard.  He tipped his head back and emptied his glass.  “I’m gonna get more wine.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>“So we’ve got a start on the power stuff,” Noct said, toying with his half-full wine glass as he sat on the floor, leaned up against Ignis’s cot.  “Still a ways to go before we can stop worrying about it.  We have to get the rest of the North Power Plant online and we need to help EXINERIS with their conversion.  All of that for capacity and, you know, insurance in case stuff happens.”  He tilted his head back, staring up at the hole in the ceiling, and sighed.  “Cell network’s up again—we had to get our towers connected to Lestallum’s system.  It wasn’t too bad, though there are still a bunch of dead spots throughout the city.  Water and sewage systems are OK—the underground wasn’t really damaged, thank <em>God</em>.”  Noct sat up, glancing at Ignis’s motionless face.  “I will say, I didn’t realize how much I missed <em>Insomnian</em> toilets while we were gone and camping all the time.  I mean, <em>heated</em> seats are like—”  He suddenly realized what he was talking about and groaned.  “Sorry, TMI, huh?”  He drank again, letting the wine slide down his throat.  “OK, so, food’s the next big thing for us to figure out.  It’s gonna be cold in Lucis this winter.  We don’t know how cold yet, but likely pretty damn cold from the temps Lestallum is already seeing.  And permanent housing.  We’ve approved a handful of apartment buildings so far, but every day there’s more people and they need space and that means assessing structures and clearing them out.  The daemons are gone, but there’s some wildlife that moved into the city from Cavaugh.  So, there’s a lot to do.”  He sat back, gesturing, a bit of wine sloshing from his glass and spilling over his hand.  “And I get that we can’t do all of it ourselves and that I’m not the most organized person and that I tend to oversimplify things sometimes and—”  Noct sucked in a breath as tears filled his eyes.  “So I understand why Cor says we need help, and I know he’s right, but I—”  <em>But I can’t do this without you.</em>  He closed his eyes, the tears slipping down his cheeks.  “Could you just wake up?” he whispered.  “Please?”  His voice broke with a sob.  “<em>Specs</em>—”</p><p>Hands closed around his, prying the glass from his fingers.  “I think that’s enough for tonight.”  Gladio gave him a napkin instead.</p><p>“The hell, Gladio?”  Noct glared up at his Shield, sullenly drying his face and his hands. </p><p>Gladio just gave him a mild look and dumped a blanket on his head.  “Make yourself comfortable.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>Gladio waved at the suddenly quiet room around them.  “Party’s wrapped.  Ladies already went to bed, Aranea and the kids’re passed out.”  Noct followed his gesture to several lumps in blankets on the floor near Prompto’s cot.  “And I ain’t carrying your ass upstairs.”</p><p>Noct blinked.  “Oh.”  He suddenly felt the weight of all the fatigue he’d been ignoring—he was pretty tired, as it turned out.</p><p>Gladio disappeared and came back a moment later, placing a water bottle in front of him.  “And drink that.”</p><p>“Mrph.”  The sound was supposed to be a ‘yes.’  Noct sipped from the water bottle and slumped onto his side on the smooth floor, next to Ignis’s cot.  He closed his eyes, hugging the blanket and listening as Gladio settled down nearby.</p><p>It was almost like camping.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Noct stirred awake with an <em>epic</em> headache to the sound of Aranea getting the kids up.</p><p>“Too <em>early</em>, Mom,” one of the boys said.</p><p>“It’s the exact same time as always.  Come on, get your butts up.  Let’s go.”</p><p>The kids’ shuffling and groaning was surprisingly short-lived.  Noct heard them leave, Aranea promising whoever was on duty in the control room that they’d be back to clean everything up after their morning run.</p><p>He rolled over, wincing as his head throbbed.  But he had to get up.  He had meetings and there was work—so much work to be done.  Things he couldn’t put off any longer.  Even if he had to do them without…  Noct looked up at the monitors and found the same flat lines staring back at him.</p><p>He dragged himself upright, vaguely aware of Gladio stirring nearby as he shuffled towards the Crystal.  On the mats below were today’s items pushed from the Armiger.  Noct stared blearily at Prompto’s tripod, some bracers, one of Gladio’s tank tops, and…a book that made his breath catch.</p><p>It had fallen open to a two-page star map with all of the constellations labeled, the margins filled with Noctis’s clumsily drawn facsimiles.  A few of the page corners were torn and the binding was failing and meticulously retaped, just like he remembered.  It was a book he hadn’t seen in years.  Noct knelt and picked it up, cradling the book in his lap as he flipped to the inside cover. </p><p><em>Property of Ignis Scientia</em>, was written there in careful letters with all of the precision and diligence Ignis possessed even as a small child.  And underneath, in large, uneven letters—<em>Noctis Lucis Caelum</em>.  Noct ran his fingertips over both inscriptions, feeling where he’d pressed hard enough with the pen to leave an indent.  It wasn’t even his book, yet he’d claimed it just the same as he’d claimed so much of Ignis, back then and still now.  Ignis hadn’t complained though—not when they were children, not in Gralea, and not since, either.</p><p>
  <em>I love you too much…too selfishly…not to try.</em>
</p><p>Noct’s breath came out in a waver as he closed the book, smoothing his hands over its cover.</p><p>Gladio joined him, grabbing his tank top from the mat.  “Your old book?”</p><p>“Iggy’s.”</p><p>“That so?  Then why’d I see you carting it around all the time?”</p><p>“Borrowed it,” Noct said.  “A lot.”  He shook his head.  “I didn’t know he kept this.  I figured it got lost, years ago.”  Yet here it was, in his hands, returned to him after all this time.  …Like he’d returned to Ignis, after a decade in the Crystal.  Like Ignis would return to him, <em>when</em> he was healed.</p><p>Gladio said nothing, clapping a hand on Noct’s shoulder in a gesture that spoke volumes anyway, before he moved off to collect the other items from the Armiger and put them into the right bins.</p><p>Noct hugged the book to his chest and got up.  He checked the monitors for both of his friends, taking a long look at each of their sleeping forms before he withdrew.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Ms. Michela was already at her desk when Noctis came down to his office from the vault in yesterday’s rumpled suit, trailed by Dustin.  “Good morning, Ms. Michela.”</p><p>She rose.  “Good morning, Your Majesty.”  Her brown eyes flicked over him and lingered on his face.</p><p>Noctis offered the best smile he could muster.  “I promise I’ll change.  Anything need my attention so far?”</p><p>“Nothing yet, sir.  You have an hour before the status call with EXINERIS and Ms. Labreigh’s team.”</p><p>He nodded.  “Thanks.”</p><p>Noctis headed inside, while Dustin stayed in the outer office with his assistant.  In the lounge, he washed his face and stowed his jacket, changing into one of his father’s button up shirts only to find that it was too large on him.  Oh well.  He found a sweater that would work instead, at least until he could pop upstairs or have someone bring something down to him. </p><p>Noct sat down at his desk, opening the top left drawer and placing the constellation book carefully inside.  It would stay here until Ignis came back to him.</p><p>The folder of dossiers was right where Cor had left it.  Noct pulled it forward and opened it, starting to sift through the contents.  If only he could see straight with his head still pounding.</p><p>With a sigh, Noct tapped his intercom.  “Ms. Michela.”</p><p>“Yes, sir?”</p><p>“Know any good cures for a hangover?”  <em>Besides not over doing it in the first place</em>, as Ignis would probably say.</p><p>“Give me a moment, Your Majesty.”</p><p>A short while later, she came in with a tray, placing before him water, medicine, and a plate from the kitchen with a few simple breakfast foods.  “For your hangover.”  Lastly, she served him a cup of tea that smelled like mint and other herbs.  “And this won’t fix a broken heart, but I hope you find it soothing anyway.”</p><p>He glanced up at her, surprised at first that she’d noticed—was it so obvious?  But seeing the soft, compassionate look in her eyes, maybe it wasn’t that.  Maybe it was simply that <em>everyone</em> was grieving someone at this point.  Everyone had lost loved ones.  “Thank you, Ms. Michela,” he said.</p><p>She smiled kindly at him.  “You’re welcome, Your Majesty.”  With a bow, she returned to the front office.</p><p>Noctis nibbled his food and sipped the tea as he looked over the dossiers, using sticky notes to write down a few things to ask Cor and the others later.  It was amazing what a few creature comforts could do to steady him, to give him strength.</p><p>When he’d finished reviewing the last dossier in the folder, Noct stacked the pages together and leaned back in his chair.  He swiveled towards the window, towards the morning sun cresting the city outside.  If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Ignis standing there with an Ebony, face smoothed in thoughtful consideration.</p><p>“You tried to teach me,” Noct murmured.  “I tried to learn.  <em>Sometimes.</em>”  He shook his head at himself.  “Guess we’ll find out if I was paying attention or not.”  He wrapped both hands around his teacup, the residual warmth seeping into his palms.  “And when you wake up, you get to help me fix whatever I’ve screwed up.”  <em>So it’s in your interest to wake up sooner rather than later, you know</em>.</p><p>His daydream of Ignis smiled at him. </p><p>Noct sipped again and let out a small, bittersweet sigh.  His phone buzzed with a text.</p><p>Turning back to his desk, Noct fished the device from his pocket, opening up his messages.</p><p><em>NOCT</em>, Iris wrote, <em>what did I do last night???  I was so drunk!!  Did I embarrass myself in front of everyone?  In front of LUNA??!!?!  </em>…with a bunch of crying emojis.</p><p>Amused, Noct texted back—<em>How do you define embarrassing?</em></p><p>…He got back a long string of miscellaneous letters and imagined Iris faceplanting into the nearest pillow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>M.E. 766, November 22<sup>nd</sup></em>
</p><p>“It’s good to hear your voice, Your Majesty.”  The woman on the other end of the speakerphone sounded exactly the way Noctis remembered her, all frosted steel and sharp wit, neither dulled by age.  “It’s been some time.”</p><p>“You as well, First Secretary,” he said, folding his hands atop his desk.</p><p>“Is Michela with you?” Camelia asked.</p><p>“Yes, she is.”  Noctis lifted his gaze, meeting the eyes of his assistant who sat on the opposite side of his desk, notepad and pen in hand.</p><p>“Good morning, First Secretary,” Ms. Michela said.</p><p>“Michela.”  A rare bit of warmth bled into Camelia’s voice.  “And how is life in the Lucian capital treating you?  I hope you know you always have a place here—a home here—in Altissia, as well as on my staff, should you wish it.”</p><p>Noctis arched a brow, stifling his amusement.  Camelia Claustra, as rigidly self-interested as always.</p><p>“Thank you kindly, First Secretary,” Ms. Michela said.  She lowered her glasses, letting them hang on their chain against the blue blouse she wore.  “I’m enjoying my time and my work here so far.  Though I will, of course, keep your offer in mind—” she smiled at Noctis, eyes twinkling, “—should things change.”</p><p>He smiled back, letting his amusement show.</p><p>“Good.  I wish you well, Michela.”</p><p>“And to you, First Secretary.”</p><p>Camelia gave a drawn-out sigh.  “She’s one of my best, Your Majesty.  You should know I will not hesitate to steal her back, should the opportunity arise.”</p><p><em>I know you won’t.</em>  “So noted, First Secretary.”</p><p>“I’m glad we understand each other.”  There was a pause.  “Allow me to be blunt, as all things are in short supply, time not the least.  We’ve spent the first half of November assessing the state of our infrastructure and supplies throughout Accordo.  The results have been unfortunate, though not unexpected.  When the Night fell, ten years ago, Altissia was still in the early stages of recovering from the Rite.”</p><p>Oh, she was <em>never</em> going to let him forget about that.  Noct suppressed a wince.</p><p>“As such, we were unable to prepare as thoroughly as we might have liked.  We have, as it were, a long road ahead of us.”</p><p>But she wasn’t calling to ask for help.  He knew Camelia Claustra better than that.</p><p>“I understand that Lestallum has seen snow for the first time in anyone’s remembrance.”</p><p>“Just this week,” Noctis said, sitting back in his chair.  “Only a dusting so far but, given the elevation, our meteorologists expect more to follow.  Likely throughout much of Lucis, as well.”</p><p>“I see,” Camelia said.  She was quiet for a moment—a thoughtful, calculated beat.  “Your Majesty, as much as I value the cooperation our nations have shared these past ten years, and though I appreciate all Lucis has done to support and care for our citizenry—and in that I include your own efforts and sacrifice—I must ask for a different sort of cooperation between us, in the near-term.”</p><p>The first boats had traveled between Cape Caem and Accordo at the beginning of the month.  A few weeks of ferrying people and equipment to the islands and it didn’t surprise him that the loose camaraderie all of the nations had formed during the Night was already starting to morph into something else.</p><p>“Accordo will welcome its former citizens, as well as expertise, should it become necessary.  But we don’t have the resources to accept immigrants fleeing Lucis in pursuit of a warmer climate.”</p><p>And there it was.  Noctis leaned forward, resting his arms atop his desk as his assistant jotted a few notes on her notepad.</p><p>“I ask that you police this on your end, given how limited and vital any and all transport between our nations will be for the foreseeable future.  Eventually, we hope to allow tourism and even limited immigration as beneficial to both of our nations.  But I cannot offer a timeline.  For now, these measures must be indefinite.”</p><p>Even anticipating something like this, Noctis could feel a headache forming behind his eyes.  “I understand, First Secretary.  Lucis will take appropriate action on our side, based on an approval process of your choosing.”  Not everyone would like it, but he respected Camelia’s decision.  Especially now that Insomnia had some level of stability.  It wouldn’t do to overwhelm Accordo in its current, fragile state.  “You understand it may be difficult for some of the refugees to produce proper paperwork.”</p><p>“Yes, which is why I ask for your cooperation, Your Majesty.  I should not like to be turning hungry people away at port to an unforgiving sea.”</p><p>Noctis let out a breath.  “Agreed, First Secretary.”</p><p>“Thank you.  We will, of course, keep you apprised of our progress and welfare, and we ask that you do the same.”</p><p>“Yes.”  He nodded, despite her not being able to see it.  “We will.”</p><p>“On that note, Your Majesty, my regrets that I’ll be unable to attend the memorial in Insomnia on the First.  But I am sending Weskham Armaugh in my stead, and I’ve asked him to extend my condolences, along with due congratulations for the occasion of your ascension.”</p><p>Noctis closed his eyes briefly.  “Thank you, First Secretary.”</p><p>“Take care, Your Majesty.  We’ll be in touch.”</p><p>The call disconnected, Ms. Michela reaching over to silence the phone’s dial tone.</p><p>Noctis braced his elbows on the desk, resting his chin atop his knuckles.  “You and the First Secretary go way back, I take it.”</p><p>Ms. Michela smiled at him, her hands folded atop her notepad.  “Back then, Camelia was the last person you’d expect to see running for any political office.  Decades ago when we were resistance fighters on the streets throughout Accordo, railing against the Empire.  When I tried—and mostly failed—to keep her out of trouble.”</p><p>Noctis couldn’t imagine it—either one of them running around, wreaking havoc against the establishment. </p><p>Ms. Michela tilted her head to the side, curls falling away from her face as she looked at him.  “Until the day a certain young Lucian prince showed up and fought alongside us, and showed us there was more than one way to resist.”</p><p>Noct inhaled slowly.</p><p>“Your father left an impression on all of us.  Even though the Lucian army was forced to retreat and even though we couldn’t help him secure the alliance he was hoping for.  That genuine…<em>care</em> for people, is something that can’t be faked.  And that trust is something that can’t be traded or bought.”  She regarded him thoughtfully.  “I always wondered what kind of king Prince Regis would become, what kind of legacy he’d leave behind.”</p><p>Noctis sat back, a heavy breath falling from his lips.  “My father inherited a war—” <em>and a prophecy </em>“—that cost him everything.”</p><p>“No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.  “Not nearly everything.”</p><p>His cheeks warmed under her scrutiny, her soft, implicit approval. </p><p>Ms. Michela shifted, tapping her notepad with her pen.  “I’ll type this up for you.”</p><p>Noctis nodded.  “Thanks.  See if you can get time on Aranea’s and Biggs’s schedules this afternoon.  I want their ideas on this.”  The remnants of the Imperial Navy, as well as the ships that brought refugees from Accordo to Lucis, had weathered the Night at Cape Caem.  It was the only operating port, currently, with Galdin Quay still a mess.  Biggs Callux and his small army of former Imperials and hunters were managing it right now, keeping things organized in the chaos of so many non-Lucians wanting to go home.  Meanwhile, Wedge Kincaid and his troops were off scouting the western continent—determining whether or not there was a viable home for them to return to—so it was only a matter of time before those Noctis had come to rely on were scattered across Eos, busy with their own restoration efforts.</p><p>It was <em>progress</em>—that’s what he kept telling himself when the pressure clawed its way around his throat with <em>so much</em> still to do, with each day that passed, marked off on his calendar while Prompto and Ignis still ‘slept’, with the first sword slipping from the Armiger just this morning and the Crystal’s light continuing to dim.</p><p>“Anything else for now, Your Majesty?”</p><p>Pulled from his thoughts, Noctis shook his head.  “No.  Thank you, Ms. Michela.”</p><p>She nodded, getting up.  “You’re due downstairs with Natalie in fifteen minutes.”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>Once she left, Noctis rocked back in his chair, letting out a sigh.  At length, he got to his feet and went to freshen up.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Gladio joined him just as he was leaving his office.  “‘Morning.”  He’d been less clingy and, on the other hand, <em>annoyingly</em> well rested since his girlfriend arrived from Lestallum a couple of weeks ago. </p><p>Not that Noctis was complaining necessarily, so long as it didn’t interfere with Gladio’s duties.  He liked Valora well enough and she was proving indispensable to the hunter teams scouting various parts of the city and helping to make places livable again.  It was just the way the two <em>looked</em> at each other, sometimes—a lot of times—that made Noct want to leave the room.</p><p>“Call go OK?”</p><p>“Yeah.”  They headed for the elevators.  “No surprise she wants to close the border for now, to all except citizens.”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “Figures.  She was sure happy to have our help during the Night, but now—”</p><p>Noctis shook his head.  “Altissia’s where Insomnia was two months ago.  We were only allowing essential people back then, too.”</p><p>“I suppose.”  Gladio folded his arms.  “Eh.  People’ll just have to suck it up.  It’s just a little snow.”</p><p>Noctis hummed, amused.  “We’ll see.”</p><p>They rode the elevator down to the atrium where Natalie was waiting for them.  Tailored Insomnian black was slowly sneaking into her wardrobe, replacing her hunter’s attire.  Today’s addition was a cropped blazer to go with her fitted slacks and ankle boots, though she wore a brightly colored tunic underneath—scarlet on top fading into rich, orange hues.  There was always an earpiece in her left ear, just peeking out between dark brown braids.</p><p>“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Natalie said with a quick bow.  She waved at his Shield.  “Hey Gladio.”</p><p>“‘Morning, Natalie.  Did Iris swing by?” Gladio asked.  “Said she was gonna on her way out.”</p><p>Natalie was Iris’s age, just a tad younger.  She’d worked supply chain during the Night—knew Lestallum’s backwards and forwards—and Monica had recommended Noct bring her over.  Ten years surviving together, relying on each other—they were like one big, close-knit family.  Noct felt like the outsider, not for the first time.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Natalie nodded.  “Just a bit ago.”</p><p>“No complaints, I take it.”</p><p>“No,” she said quietly, her face solemn as she glanced at Noct.  “This way, Your Majesty.”</p><p>The funeral would be held in the courtyard, ringed by the Old Wall, where the Lucian kings and queens had often welcomed crowds for their addresses.  Though parts of it had sustained damage during the Night and during Noctis’s fight with Ardyn in particular, the debris had been cleared and it remained the best place for a gathering, supposing the weather cooperated.  But that was why they’d picked the beginning of December, just over a week from now, rather than waiting for repairs that weren’t a priority given everything else going on.</p><p>Natalie led them to one of the alcoves off the atrium where a sample display had been set up in the center of the room.  The casket was lacquer black with gold around the edges, set on a stand draped with dark red velvet.  Two men, wearing black suits and white gloves, stood off to the side and bowed when they entered.  Noctis had asked for something simple, given their modest means at the moment, but appropriate for the burial of his father’s councilmembers. </p><p>For King Regis, the casket was only a temporary interment.  His father’s sarcophagus had been prepared long before the signing.  He would be buried alongside Noctis’s mother, near Noctis’s grandfather and grandmother, in the royal tomb.</p><p>For the others, that wasn’t the case.  Feeling the familiar press of grief, Noctis stepped to the side, giving Gladio space to approach.</p><p>Noctis’s Shield came forward with slow, silent steps, his eyes shadowed.  He stopped beside the casket, touching it lightly at first—just his fingertips.  Gladio closed his eyes, breathing in, then flattened his hand, sliding his palm along the edge of the casket and lingering there.</p><p>Noctis watched his friend, and knew.  He nodded to the men and quietly moved away.</p><p>Natalie was ready for him, taking him to the far side of the alcove where two banners had been draped against the wall.  On the left was the four-pointed star, the crest of Lucis embroidered in gold on a field of black.  On the right was his father’s skull and wing crest with <em>Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII</em> underneath—gleaming gold thread against dark vermillion fabric.</p><p>Natalie gestured to the black Lucian banner.  “We’ll order enough for each of the councilmembers, Your Majesty, if you approve.”</p><p>“Yes,” Noctis said, nodding.</p><p>“And for this one—”</p><p>“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice a tad hoarse.</p><p>Natalie nodded.  She took a binder from a table nearby and opened it.  “I have pictures of what the florists in Lestallum can provide,” she said, holding it for him and showing him a few photos of different floral arrangements.  “But Iris thought…”</p><p>Noctis glanced up from the page, meeting the bit of hesitation in her eyes.  “Go on.”</p><p>Natalie exhaled and flipped a couple of pages in the binder, showing him sunlit pictures of new foliage—of golden yellow and purple flowers and pale pink blossoms.  “Wildflowers are growing again in Cavaugh.  Iris wondered if you’d consider these instead.”</p><p>Noctis let out a breath, his eyes stinging a little.  Nothing could be more fitting than to enrobe these men and women in the newness of the Dawn they’d given their lives to protect.  “I agree,” he said.  “Let’s use those.”</p><p>Natalie closed the binder and bowed.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.  I’ll see to all the arrangements.”</p><p>“Thanks, Natalie.”</p><p>That done, Noctis wandered through the atrium and front entrance until he was outside, standing at the top of the Citadel steps in brilliant morning sunshine.  There was a definite autumn chill in the air, offset by the warmth of direct sun, and he closed his eyes, turning his face towards the light and slipping his hands into his pockets.  Just <em>being</em> for the moment, breathing, and steeping himself in the here and now—Insomnia, broken but healing.  Lucis, wounded but alive.  Eos, where flowers were starting to grow again.</p><p>A set of familiar footsteps approached—one pair where there should have been three.  Noct opened his eyes as Gladio joined him.  “OK?” he asked.</p><p>“Yup.”  Gladio looked out over the courtyard for a moment in silence before he spoke again.  “Thanks for…”  He trailed off.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct understood.</p><p>They stood side-by-side for a good couple of minutes, neither needing to say a word.</p><p>Eventually, a group of workers went by, bowing and waving.  “Your Majesty.”</p><p>Noctis nodded to them.</p><p>Gladio exhaled.  “Well…do we gotta get back to it?”</p><p>“Hm.”  Noct rocked on his heels.  “Thought I might take a walk first.  Wanna come?”  He glanced up, meeting his Shield’s faint smile.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The insistent buzzer of Noct’s intercom pulled him from his dreams—and it was a nice dream, too, with Prompto excitedly laying out pictures on his desk, Gladio sprawled on his office couch, and Ignis coming from the adjacent office with a mug of coffee and a stack of reports for him.  It was entirely mundane—just an ordinary day of office work, yet he yearned for it, a hard punch of longing in his chest as he rolled towards the nightstand.  Numerals on the clock flashed 2:18am at him and Noct groaned, slapping the intercom.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Need you in the vault,” Cor said, his voice tight, clipped.  “Prompto’s waking up.”</p><p>Noct bolted upright, his heart suddenly pounding.  “On my way.”  He tossed the covers back and jumped out of bed, yanking a robe on over his pajamas and hastily tying its belt.  </p><p>He ran out of his apartment in slippers, passing Dustin in the hall who was on the intercom with a very sleepy-sounding Gladio.  “I’ll meet him down there,” Noct said without stopping, catching Dustin’s nod as he went by.</p><p>The elevator dropped him twenty floors and then he was off again, his heart squeezing in his chest.  <em>Prom</em>.</p><p>Monica was waiting for him in the antechamber when he came up the stairs.  “There was no warning,” she said, falling in beside him.  “One moment his temp spiked and the next, he was awake.  The doctors are here; it’s only been a few minutes.”</p><p>“Thanks,” he said, running for the open doors, wishing like hell he could warp.  “Aranea?”</p><p>“Just ahead of you.”</p><p>As with Gladio, there was a lot of shouting and tense voices—a thick crowd around Prompto’s cot in the dim light of the Crystal.  When Noct got close enough, he could see Prompto thrashing, pushing at all the hands trying to hold him down—and there was Aranea, in a tank top and leggings, her silver-blond hair in a loose, messy plait down her back.  She leaned over Prompto, grabbing his face—</p><p>“I said <em>cool it</em>, Blondie!”  Their noses were inches apart.  “You’re alive, you’re injured.  Suck it up and breathe <em>normal.</em>”</p><p>The kids weren’t in the room and neither was Cor; Noct assumed they were together somewhere, nearby.  He touched shoulders, gingerly slipping through.</p><p>Prompto stopped struggling, staring up at Aranea, his chest heaving.  “Where’s Noct?”</p><p>“King’s right here.”  Aranea drew back, fixing Noct with a glare.</p><p>“<em>Prom</em>—”  Noct got right up beside the cot and dropped to his knees, grabbing Prompto’s arm, finding his hand.  His vision blurred with tears as he looked into his best friend’s face, Prompto <em>awake </em>and blinking at him, blue eyes wide, mouth agape, hand shifting in his for purchase—  <em>Oh God, Prom—</em></p><p>“<em>Noct</em>.”  Prom’s eyes started to gleam; he gripped Noct’s hand fiercely.  “You’re alive.  You’re really—”  Tears welled up and spilled from the corners of his eyes, streaking down either side of his face into his blond hair.  He scrunched his eyes shut and lay back, drawing a breath and letting it out.  “OK,” he said.  “Whatever you need to do now…”</p><p>The doctor leaned close on Prompto’s other side.  “We’re going to give you something to make you more comfortable, Master Prompto,” she said.  “Then we’re going to take you to the infirmary to treat your injuries.  We’ll allow visitors as soon as we can.”</p><p>“Sure,” Prompto said.  “Sounds great.”  He sniffed tearily and smiled, giving Noct’s hand another squeeze.  “See you in a bit, buddy?”</p><p>Noct huffed a breath, squeezing back.  “Count on it.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Noct didn’t bother trying to go back to sleep.  He went up to his apartment to shower and change, then headed straight for the infirmary waiting room.  Cor was there with the kids—dressed in his kingsglaive uniform while the kids wore T-shirts and sleep pants and slippers, the boys clutching stuffed animals.  Even in their pajamas, Benin and Zorian wore little leather wristbands—just like their dad’s.  They were picking at a stack of children’s books in a bin on the floor—probably the same books that had been there when Noct was a kid.  Espie was curled up in a blanket beneath Cor’s arm, fast asleep against his side.</p><p>Cor looked up when Noctis entered.</p><p>“Thanks for the call.”  Noct took the seat across from him, a low coffee table between them. </p><p>“Of course,” Cor said.</p><p>Noct leaned on his elbows, idly rubbing his hands together.  “Aranea?”</p><p>“She went to get dressed.”</p><p>Noctis nodded.  They lapsed into silence.</p><p>A few minutes later, the hallway door opened, admitting Gladio.  He was in his kingsglaive uniform now, having arrived at the vault earlier barefoot and shirtless, clad only in a pair of sweatpants.</p><p>Noct straightened up.  “Found your clothes, huh?”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “Says the king who was running around in a bathrobe.”</p><p>“Housecoat,” Noct said.  At least he’d been wearing pajamas and underwear underneath.</p><p>Gladio rolled his eyes and nodded towards the inner door.  “Any word?”</p><p>“Just got here.”</p><p>They both looked at Cor, who shook his head.</p><p>Gladio took a seat two chairs over from Noct.  “It’ll be a while, yeah?  If his injuries are anything like mine.  I was out, what, half the day?”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct rubbed his forehead and sighed.  “I was here then, too.  With Iris.  We were both useless wrecks.”</p><p>That made Gladio smile—a smug, self-satisfied little grin.</p><p>Noct jabbed him in the arm.  “Get over yourself.”</p><p>“Why should I?”</p><p>The hall door opened again, Aranea entering in her usual leather garb, hair brushed and rebraided.  She locked eyes with Cor, that one look apparently giving her all she needed to know, and dropped into the chair on Espie’s other side, across from Noct and Gladio.</p><p>“That meeting we were gonna have today?  Let’s reschedule,” she said. </p><p>“Yeah, I’ll have my assistant—”  Noct patted his pocket where his phone should’ve been.  <em>Oh</em>.  Must’ve left it on his nightstand.</p><p>Gladio took out his phone.  “I’ll send her a note.  Might as well push off everything else too, yeah?”</p><p>Noct sat back.  “Yeah.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Aranea murmured.  She settled in and folded her arms.  “Wake me if the doctor comes out.”  And she closed her eyes.</p><p>Not a bad idea.  Noct sighed, leaning his head back and chasing sleep.</p><p>-x-</p><p>They left to eat in shifts while they waited, with a few periodic updates from doctors throughout the morning.  Aranea took the kids to get dressed and came back with a satchel of things to keep them occupied.  Noct would’ve guessed activity books or games, but the bag was full of small gadgets and miscellaneous tech—inoperative magitek that the kids, Espie especially, set about tinkering with, taking things apart and rearranging the pieces.  Watching them, he couldn’t help but see Prompto—disassembling and cleaning one of his guns or building a Gravisphere.</p><p>It was afternoon when the dayshift doctor came back to the waiting room.  Noctis got to his feet immediately.</p><p>“He’s conscious and stable, Your Majesty,” the doctor said.  “We’ll allow visitors now.”</p><p>“Mom.”  Espie tugged on Aranea’s arm.  “Does that mean we can see dad?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose that depends on His Majesty,” Aranea said, giving Noct a mild look with plenty of venom.</p><p><em>Oh, come on.  Like I’m gonna be ‘that guy.’</em>  Noct smiled his most gracious smile at her.  “Go on.  I’ll check in later.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>The kids quickly tidied up, then scrambled to follow Aranea through the inner door.</p><p>Noct watched them leave, withholding a sigh.</p><p>“Gonna wait?” Gladio asked.</p><p>He shook his head.  “I’ll stretch my legs.”</p><p>Noct wandered aimlessly for a bit, but he wasn’t at all surprised when he ended up at the vault.</p><p>They’d already cleared out Prompto’s cot and the medical equipment.  The Carbuncle fishing lure Noct left had been relocated to one of the stands near Ignis’s cot, shuffled aside as they moved things out most likely.  Someone—Gladio or one of the crownsguard—had dealt with the Armiger’s daily ‘gifts’ already, so all that remained now was Ignis, lying motionless in the shadow of the Crystal, with perpetually flat traces on his monitor.</p><p>And the Crystal…hardly had any glow at all.  There was only the weakest eminence of light from its heart.  When Noct touched it, the faceted shards were barely lukewarm against his palm, where before it had <em>burned</em>.</p><p><em>Oh God.</em>  Noct closed his eyes, breathing through the pain that tightened his chest.  “Look, you know I’m grateful.  Thank you for bringing Prom back to me.”  <em>Back to his family</em>.  “But—”  Noct bit down on his lower lip.  “<em>Please—</em>”</p><p>The Crystal didn’t respond to him—no flash of light or heat, nothing.</p><p>Noct withdrew.  He knelt at Ignis’s side, picking up his friend’s hand and lacing their fingers together, feeling only warmth where there should have been pressure, reaction, and <em>life.</em>  <em>Specs…</em>  Noct bowed his head, resting his cheek against Ignis’s knuckles and breathing in the familiar scent of him.  Tears pricked his eyes.  He stayed there until his legs went numb against the cold, smooth floor.</p><p>-x-</p><p>After dinner, Noct returned to the infirmary, walking the same hall he’d traversed countless times those first couple days after waking.  He knocked quietly on the door at the end.</p><p>“Come in!” Prompto’s voice rang out, bright and cheery, and that alone was enough to get him choked up.</p><p>Noct opened the door, and hesitated on the threshold.  Prompto was sitting up, freshly bandaged with a medical gown loosely wrapped around him.  Aranea had the chair close to his bedside, and the three kids were asleep, sprawled across Prom’s bed and both of their laps.  One overhead light was on, spilling its soft glow on the five of them.</p><p>The way Aranea glanced down, it was obvious she and Prom had been talking before he’d interrupted.</p><p>“I can come back,” he said, not wanting to intrude.</p><p>Prom’s eyes widened.  “No, stay.  There’s another chair here somewhere.”  He waved towards the window.</p><p>Noct went and got it, putting it near the foot of Prompto’s bed and sitting down.  He tried to be as quiet about it as he could.</p><p>“So,” Prompto said, meeting his gaze.  “You must have questions.”</p><p>Noct exhaled.  “It can wait.  Prom, I—”</p><p>“No,” he said.  “I want you to know.  <em>You’re my best friend</em>.  I wanted to tell you before, but I just…”  Prompto glanced down at the kids, his hand resting on one of the twins’ shoulders.</p><p>Noct leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.  “You knew what I’d say.”  <em>You knew I’d never let you come to Insomnia for the fight; you knew I wouldn’t let you in the throne room if you told me.</em></p><p>“Yeah.”  Prompto looked at him, eyes firm.  “I did it for them, Noct.  For a world they can grow up in.”  He paused.  “At the same time, I couldn’t just…”  His blue eyes filled with tears.  “I couldn’t just let you go, either.”</p><p>“Prom…” he whispered, his eyes burning.</p><p>Aranea frowned, but said nothing.</p><p>“It was April.  …Seven-fifty-eight.”  Prompto glanced at Aranea for confirmation.</p><p>She sat back in her chair and sighed.  “Brain still works.  Cue the fireworks.”</p><p>Prom smiled briefly.  “…So you’d been gone almost two years,” he said, looking at Noct again.  “We were in Niflheim, searching for survivors, destroying the remaining magitek bases, that kind of stuff.  Thought we’d got all the research facilities already, but we found this one, deep in the mountains…”  His face smoothed.  “Usually we’d just take ‘em out by air, you know?  Too much risk to actually infiltrate.  But the energy output was weird, so we—”  Prompto glanced at the boys, pain gleaming in his eyes.  “Their pods had malfunctioned.  It was the only reason they hadn’t turned into daemons…been harvested by the machines.  They were…I don’t know.  Suspended animation or something.”</p><p>“Some kind of ‘stasis,’” Aranea murmured, glancing at Noct.</p><p>“They were <em>me</em> in there.  Just like if Cor hadn’t busted me out, I—”  Prompto shook his head.  “So we took them.  No idea if they’d make it…”</p><p>“But they’re survivors,” Aranea said, giving Prompto a hard look, full of implications.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, Prom.</em>
</p><p>“Yeah.”  Prompto stroked the boy’s hair, exhaling.  “Yeah.”  He glanced at Aranea, a silent handoff.</p><p>“Same mission,” she said, “we found a group of people—forty or so—holed up in a bunker.  Scourge had gotten to most of them.  Wasn’t much we could do except put them out of their misery.”  Her lips thinned into a line.  “One was a woman in her third trimester.  She was already changing.”</p><p>Aranea said it all so emotionlessly, like giving a report, while Noct’s heart twisted in anguish, imagining how terrible it must’ve been.</p><p>“I worried the baby would already be infected, but she was fine.”  Aranea’s hand curled possessively—protectively—around Espie’s shoulders.  She glanced at Noct, her eyes shadowed and fierce.  “So now you know.”</p><p>“There are other kids, Noct,” Prompto said.  “Families.”</p><p>Noct nodded.  “There are families here now.  We’ve been making space, as much as we can.”</p><p>“You’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Aranea said, flashing an accusing look at Prom.  “When they let you out of here.”</p><p>Prompto winced.  “Two months, huh?”</p><p>“Two and a half, more like,” she said.</p><p>They looked at each other, <em>a lot</em> hanging in the air between them.  It was definitely time for him to go.  Noct got up.  “I’ll let you get some rest.”  He put the chair back by the window.  “Me and Luna will stop by tomorrow—”</p><p>Prompto did a double take.  “Huh?”</p><p>
  <em>Right…no one’s told you, I guess.</em>
</p><p>“Like I said,” Aranea murmured.</p><p>Noct slipped his hands into his pockets, smiling.  “Remember before how you were <em>so</em> excited to meet her?”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Noctis no longer spent every evening in the rooftop garden, but he carved out time at least two or three nights a week, if not more often.  There wasn’t much left to do in terms of gardening or restoration, at least for now.  The old plants had been cleared out, the walkways swept and clean.  The fountains and irrigation remained off to conserve water, but it was a peaceful space for strolling or resting on one of the benches.  These days, it was the only time he had alone with Luna.  She had an office in the administrative complex not far from his, but rarely used it.  Most of the time, she was out in the city, helping the refugees settle in—one person, one family at a time—and using her gifts of healing to treat their ailments.  It seemed like she was on the front page of Vyv’s newspaper almost daily, the Oracle back among her people.</p><p>Noctis cherished the time he had with her, as they walked slowly along the garden path in their coats, arms linked.  Even if he sometimes felt guilty, being one more demand of her.  He hardly felt that he gave as much to her as she gave to him.</p><p>“So it’s been quite a day,” Luna said—a leading statement—as their heels clicked on the flagstone path.</p><p>Noctis sighed, not bothering to hide his exhaustion.  “You could say that.”</p><p>Her steps slowed and stopped; he stopped alongside her as she turned, studying him with a slight frown.</p><p>“Do try to rest tonight,” she said, lifting a hand to brush lightly at a bit of his fringe, revealing more of his face to her gentle scrutiny.</p><p>“I’ve been sleeping OK,” he said, and it was true, but his resolve crumbled under her gaze, the fears in his heart laid bare.  “Luna.  The Crystal’s so dark now.”  He drew a breath that hitched, tangled with emotion.  “Will it last?  Will he…?”</p><p>She took his hands, pressing his fingers.  “Do not lose hope, Noctis.  His awakening is as certain as was your return.”  Luna’s brow knit.  “But I cannot say when.”</p><p>“They didn’t know either.  They just lived like this, <em>for years</em>.”  The thought of all that time piled up and weighed on him, caging his heart in a vise grip.  “Luna, I don’t know how I—”</p><p>Her gaze never wavered.  “What is the alternative?”</p><p>Noct’s lungs emptied.  “Unbearable,” he whispered.</p><p>She squeezed his hands.  “One day at a time, Noctis.  That is how.”</p><p>He swallowed, the pain like shards of glass in his throat.  “Yeah.”  Noct took a deep breath and let it out again—she was right.  His chest slowly loosened.  The fear wasn’t wholly abated, but it was manageable once more.  “Yeah,” he said, squeezing back.</p><p>Luna’s gaze softened.  She took his arm again, gently drawing him onward.</p><p>They circled the fountain on the north side of the Citadel.  In the distance, the power plant was a bright spot on the edge of the city—two of its four units now operational—and a river of lights flowed from it under the night sky, fanning out into a glowing sea at the heart of Insomnia, surrounding the Citadel.  The landscape of lights changed daily, slowly expanding outward as more of the city became inhabitable, as more people returned.</p><p>“So…when do I finally get to meet this friend of yours?” Luna asked, her voice warm.</p><p>“As soon as you want,” Noct said; he couldn’t help but smile.  “First thing in the morning if you have time.”</p><p>“Yes, absolutely.”</p><p>“I…should tell you,” he said as they kept walking, turning away from the cityscape to face the gardens once more.  “He can be…excitable.  He was really eager to meet you before.”</p><p>“And I’m quite eager to meet him,” Luna said.  “I owe him debts you can’t imagine.”  She merely smiled at his questioning look.  “So I should like to thank him in person.  Besides,” Luna squeezed his arm, “assuming he’s fully clothed, it ought to go better than the last time you introduced me to one of your friends.”</p><p>Noctis coughed, laughing.  He reached over, covering her hand with his.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Approaching Prompto’s room in the infirmary, Noct could already hear voices through the partially opened door—Prom’s in particular.</p><p>“So we’re, like, <em>technically </em>zombies.”</p><p>Gladio groaned while the kids shrieked with laughter.</p><p>“No, come on!  Hear me out!”</p><p>Noct shook his head, rapping lightly on the door.  “Hey Prom, you decent?”</p><p>“Hey Noct!  Come on in!”  There was a grunt.  “Kids, let me breathe, will ya?”</p><p>Noct shared a smile with Luna and opened the door.</p><p>The kids, still in their pajamas, leapt off the bed and ran towards them.  “Uncle Noct!  Auntie Luna!”</p><p>Luna smiled at them.  “Good morning, Espie, Benin, and Zorian.  Might you introduce me to your father?  He’s someone I’ve been longing to meet.”</p><p>Noct glanced at Prom and pressed his lips to avoid laughing outright.  Prompto was wide-eyed, gaping at Luna as he sat up in bed, a few unintelligible sounds slipping from his throat.  He was dressed at least, so there was that.</p><p>Guided by the children, Luna arrived at Prompto’s bedside, reaching out and clasping Prom’s shaking hand in both of hers.  “It’s a pleasure, Prompto Argentum.  Finally, after all of these years.”</p><p>“Uh…”  Prompto turned bright red, his voice squeaking out.  “<em>Hi</em>…?!”</p><p>Noct leaned against the doorframe, enjoying every second.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>M.E. 766, December 1<sup>st</sup> </em>
</p><p>In the full-length mirror set up for him in the atrium, Noctis studied his reflection one last time.  The gold gleamed, the leather collar of his royal raiment stiff around his jawline, each strap and buckle polished to a shine.  His black tuxedo shirt was a replacement from the original outfit, his old one too torn and bloodstained to be salvageable.  He wore a new suit as well; the blazer and slacks were fine-spun black wool, perfectly pressed, as was the cape that hung down his back.  On his left knee, his ornamental brace glinted as it caught the light.  With his beard trimmed and his hair neatly combed, he looked head-to-toe like the king of Lucis.  All that was missing was the crown.</p><p>A quiet knock sounded at the double doors on his left before they opened, admitting Gladio and Prompto in their kingsglaive best.</p><p>It was time, then.</p><p>Noctis adjusted the starburst crest on his right shoulder and sighed, letting his hand drift back to his side.  “Feels weird, doing this without him.”  It wasn’t fair of him to bring it up, not on a day that was supposed to be about everyone they’d lost—those who hadn’t gotten a miracle and weren’t coming back.  But he couldn’t help it, turning to look at his two friends and the empty space beside them where Ignis should have been.</p><p>Prompto’s face clouded; he glanced at the floor.</p><p>“He wouldn’t want to hold you back,” Gladio said.  “It’s the last thing he’d want.”</p><p>“I know,” Noctis said. </p><p>
  <em>A king pushes onward, always.</em>
</p><p><em>I know</em>.  He closed his eyes briefly, gathering himself with a breath, counting three heartbeats—slow and heavy.  When he opened his eyes again, he was ready—as ready as he was going to be.  “Thanks,” he said to his friends and meant it, deeply.  “For being here with me.”</p><p>Prompto’s brow knit, his emotions ever on his face.  Gladio gave a nod.  In unison, they pressed their hands to their chests and bowed.</p><p>Noctis walked between them.</p><p>Just inside the Citadel’s front entrance, Luna awaited him.  She wore white today—a three-piece ivory suit with a cream button-up shirt and tie.  Her hair was plaited across her crown in a style similar to how she used to wear it, though the remainder was captured into a sleek bun with a gold hairclip.  A mantle of white silk wrapped her shoulders and fell like a split cape down her back, past her knees.  Her gaze was solemn, as if she beheld and felt the pain of all of Eos—all of the bloodshed and loss of their people and of their Star reflected in the blue of her eyes. </p><p>Some of that pain was his.  Luna held out her hand to him and Noctis wordlessly gave his own.  Together, they stepped out into frosty, December sunshine.</p><p>The north courtyard was filled with people—Insomnian, Lucian, and from all corners of Eos.  They stood shoulder-to-shoulder all the way to the wall and spilled onto the stairs at the edge of the courtyard, right up to the barriers the crownsguard had arranged.  The caskets were lined up against the railing, each covered with the black and gold banner of Lucis, save the one in the center—for King Regis—draped in vermillion and bearing his crest in gold.  Cavaugh wildflowers in clusters of soft violet, deep fuchsia, and honeyed yellow lay atop each casket, tied with black ribbon.</p><p>The Lucian crown waited in front of the flowers on Regis’s casket, over where his head rested.</p><p>Though it was to be a solemn occasion, whispers and soft exclamations rose from the crowd as Noctis and Luna descended the front steps of the Citadel and crossed over to the courtyard.  Cameras followed them, media from Lestallum joining those from Insomnia to capture the occasion, while a discrete set of microphones at the railing would carry Luna’s voice to radios across Eos.  Gladio, Prompto, and the rest of the crownsguard followed, fanning out behind them as Noctis and Luna came to the L-shaped line of caskets.</p><p>Noctis released Luna’s hand as they passed in silence to either side of King Regis’s casket, a black carpet edged with gold running beneath their feet.  He hung back while Luna stepped up to the microphones in full view of the people in the courtyard below.</p><p>A hush fell.  Noctis watched as a breeze furled the silk of Luna’s mantle, brushing it across her back.</p><p>She bowed her head, still for a long pendent moment before she lifted her gaze and spoke.  “People of Eos—daughters and sons and children of our Star,” she said, her voice all grace and gentle strength.  “We gather on this day to remember, to acknowledge, and to mourn.  Not only those who were lost to war and violence, but those whose lives were taken by the Scourge and by the Night.  Those for whom our hearts ache, whom we’ve grieved on countless tear-filled nights and long, unending days.  Those whose loss leaves us irreparably changed.”</p><p>Noctis let out a slow, careful breath, his eyes already moist.  Many of those in the crowd gripped hands or drew closer to those beside them—remnants of broken families and friends pulling together.</p><p>Luna clasped her hands before her.  “At times, we feel abandoned, at times, we’re filled with anger and pain…at times we despair of our very lives and curse our survival.  Know this, dear friends:  Your pain is heard, your pain is known, your pain is shared.  From the beginning of creation, from the first Fall, Providence has seen our tears, has wept for us as Their children, looking forward to the completion of time when all would be made right, when all suffering and even death meets its end. </p><p>“That day,” Luna said, “is not today.  We exist in the interim, between what should be and what will be, and carry both pain and joy in our hearts.”  She lifted her right hand to her chest.  “Be strengthened, Beloved.  This is but a season, our lives but a breath, and for each of us there is a time, known to Providence before our Star was ever formed or fire breathed into its heart—there is a time for each of us to pass into the Realm of Light, to greet again those who have gone before us.”  Her voice softened.  “I have walked the streets of the Heavenly Eos, and that which awaits us is not to be feared.”</p><p><em>Dad.</em>  Noct blinked back his tears and discretely placed his hand on the edge of the casket beside him.  <em>We’ll see each other again.</em></p><p>“So let this time be precious.  Know that, while the Astrals and their power have returned to the One who gave it, Providence ever remains our shelter and shield, the giver and sustainer of our lives, as close as the very breath in our lungs, full of tenderness and love, limitless in power.  Do not be afraid to hope, dearest friends, nor to love, nor to dream.”</p><p>Her words faded over a people rapt, some discretely brushing at their cheeks, others proudly lifting their tear-stained faces to the sunlight.  Noctis felt a strength he should not have had, even as her words cut into him with her usual surgical precision, exposing the wounds and fears he pushed down so deeply, and binding him tightly with the utmost care.  He felt something stir within him, like her magic but different and <em>more</em>, a remnant perhaps of the light that he had channeled to vanquish the darkness and Scourge in the Crystal—a brush of something unfathomably vast and unbearably tender. </p><p>Luna moved to the side, bringing attention to Regis’s casket, to Noctis standing beside it.  “To the Kingdom of Lucis was given the mantle to safeguard the Light.  For the Light, for our Star, the Kingdom of Light has given its all.” </p><p>She extended her hand and Noctis came forward to stand with her.  The feeling only grew—a sweet radiance that enveloped him like an embrace.</p><p>“Regis Lucis Caelum, the one hundred and thirteenth sovereign of Lucis, laid down his life for a peace he did not live to see.” </p><p>As Luna took the crown from atop the casket, Noctis knelt, lifting his gaze to her face.  The sunlight formed a halo around her, making her hair gleam like gold and the white of her clothing glow.</p><p>“The crown passes to you, Noctis Lucis Caelum, King of Light.”  Her hands gently fit the crown over his right ear, nestled into his hair.  “To you, who has given all that a person can give for the sake of Eos, including those dearest to you.”</p><p>They flashed in his mind—all of them, in that split second—Luna, her dress stained red with her own blood, Prompto and Gladio leaning against his throne, breathing their last, and Ignis in his arms, impaled on the blade meant for him.  All of it, <em>for love</em>, and that’s what the feeling was—surrounding him, holding him, filling him.  Noctis drew a sharp breath, his eyes burning as he gazed at Luna, and at the One whose love poured through her.</p><p>“As Oracle of Eos and Messenger of Providence, I give you, King Noctis, to your people, as the one hundred and fourteenth sovereign of Lucis.”  As her fingers whispered over his face and withdrew, the sensation faded to a gentle warmth, like that of the sunlight on his skin.</p><p>Luna stepped back and offered him her hand.</p><p>Noctis grasped it, rising to his feet.</p><p>And despite the solemn occasion, the crowd cheered.</p><p>-x-</p><p>“You look like a proper king now,” Iris said, smiling as her gaze lingered on the crown jutting out from his hair.</p><p>“And you look like a proper crownsguard,” Noctis said, nodding to her new kingsglaive uniform.</p><p>Iris crinkled her nose.  “It’s a bit stuffy, you know.  Don’t expect me to wear it all the time.”</p><p>Noctis smiled.  “So noted.”</p><p>The reception in the atrium was modest, just close friends of the Crown, guests of Lucis, his staff, and key individuals from their travels.  There wasn’t a dress code, but people had dressed up anyways and the women of EXINERIS were all taller than him in their heels.  Even Talcott was wearing a suit—a dark brown ensemble with leather patches on the elbows of his jacket.</p><p>“Look at you!”  Iris accosted him, slipping her arm through his.  “All dolled up.”</p><p>“Thank you, Miss Iris.”  Talcott blushed, all lanky and semi-awkward, taller than Noctis had last seen him. </p><p>Noctis shook his head, having to crane his neck to look up at him.  “Still growing.  Quit that, would ya?” </p><p>Talcott smiled, dipping his head.  “Yes, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Cid, being the old curmudgeon that he was, hadn’t made the trip from Lestallum, though Noctis figured it was only a matter of time before he returned to Hammerhead to get away from the snow.  But Cindy was here and, as promised, Weskham had come over from Altissia—currently chatting arm-in-arm with Ms. Michela.  Noctis hardly got more than a couple of minutes with any one person before another well-wisher was pressing in for their turn.  He shook hands, smiled for pictures, promised Vyv an interview in the coming days…and sipped wine and mingled and laughed with his dear friends.</p><p>And every few minutes he would catch himself, looking, turning, glancing across the room and expecting to see the one person who wasn’t there but should have been.</p><p>Gladio was hanging out with Valora, Natalie, and others from Lestallum, Prompto was taking pictures of everything, and there never wasn’t a crowd clustered around Luna.  Noctis finally escaped to the edge of the room, finding Monica.</p><p>“Think it’s OK if I slip away for a bit?” he asked.</p><p>Monica lifted a brow.  “You’re the king.”</p><p><em>Guess so, huh?</em> </p><p>“We’ll see that you’re not disturbed, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Noctis exhaled, grateful.  “Thanks.”  She covered for him as he took a back route to the elevators and headed upstairs.</p><p>Dustin was on duty at the vault, quietly letting him in and closing the door behind him.</p><p>They had to keep a spotlight on after dusk, now.  The Crystal’s light was no longer bright enough to see by.  Ignis slept in the glow of the monitors, Noct’s folding chair beside his cot.</p><p>He sat down, setting his half-empty wine glass on the floor.  It was at least partly the alcohol that made his eyes fill with liquid, that made his chest ache with the sob he withheld.  Noct ducked his head, taking Ignis’s left hand and bringing it to the crown in his hair, guiding Ignis’s fingers over its curves and softened points and stones.  He closed his eyes as the tears slipped free, holding Ignis’s hand there, pressing his face into its fleeting warmth.</p><p>“Missed you today,” he whispered.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>M.E. 766, December 3<sup>rd</sup> </em>
</p><p>“Gralea’s about as we left it, Your Majesty,” Wedge said, his voice only a bit staticky on the speakerphone.  “Big ole empty wreck of a place.  Some of the buildings’ll be salvageable but not much use for them, immediately.  All the bunkers got cleared out, years ago.”</p><p>“Supply runs,” Aranea said, to Noctis’s left at the conference table.</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Vogliupe, though, that’s another story,” Wedge said.  “You got those pics I sent, Lady A?”</p><p>“Yeah, pulling them up now.”  Aranea tapped a few keys on her laptop, Noctis directing his attention to the projector screen on the wall.</p><p>He was suddenly looking at an image of snow-tipped mountain peaks, glassy lakes reflecting blue sky, and green slopes, covered in new grass.  Noctis blinked.  “<em>Vogliupe</em>, you said?  Surrounding Ghorovas Rift?”</p><p>“Just the same, Your Majesty,” Wedge said.  “Seems the Glacian’s corpse is gone and the snow’s melted, except what you see up there on the mountains.  Guess it’s hard to say how long it’ll stay this way, but right now we’ve got all kinds of rivers and lakes and fertile ground.”</p><p>Aranea flipped through a couple of different photos.</p><p>Noctis shook his head, exhaling. “That’s incredible.  It looks like—”</p><p>“Like Tenebrae,” Luna murmured.  She rose from her chair on his right, moving closer to the screen, stopping just beyond the stream of the projector.  The blue-green glow of the pictures reflected off her skin and hair as she studied them, holding her elbows.</p><p>“Speaking of, Your Highness,” Wedge said, “we went through Zoldara Henge to assess the damage and I’m afraid it isn’t pretty.”</p><p>Aranea brought up pictures of Fenestala Manor from afar—burnt and crumbling spires amidst barren rock, nothing like the beautiful castles Noctis remembered from his youth.</p><p>“Some of the structures’re intact, but it’ll take some work to make them any sort of habitable.  Empire didn’t spare much when they attacked, before the Night.”</p><p>“I understand,” Luna said, exhaling softly.  Her arms drifted back to her sides.  “Hardly a priority, given the circumstances.  Were you able to survey the rest of Ulwaat, or Piztala?”</p><p>“Better news there, Your Highness,” Wedge said.</p><p>The screen lit with pictures of villages, overgrown farmland, stretches of green countryside, and cities built into the hillside along the Sathersea. </p><p>“Damage is minimal, climate is stable, and we’re already seeing stuff growing again.  We’re actually calling from just outside Pagla.  Only took a couple of days to get the windfarm restarted.”</p><p>“Days,” Noctis murmured.</p><p>Aranea gave him a look like, <em>My guys are that good.</em></p><p>“Helps we know Imperial tech, Your Majesty,” Wedge said.  “Now that we’ve got a stable base of operations, we’re ready to bring more people over and put ‘em to work.”</p><p>“That’s fantastic news,” Luna said.</p><p>“It’ll mostly be hard labor at first, Your Highness, and we’ll need to import supplies from Lucis for a while yet.”</p><p>“Sure,” Noctis said, taking notes as Ms. Michela did the same.  “We’ll make sure you’re set up with whatever you need.”</p><p>Luna turned to look at him, her eyes soft with feeling.  “Thank you, Noctis.”</p><p>Noctis nodded, his face warming under her regard.</p><p>“I’ll work with Her Highness to put together a schedule,” Aranea said, “and organize the first waves of workers.”  She sat back in her chair, looking at Luna.  “I’ve sent you all the details, Your Highness.  Everything my guys have sent me.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Luna said.  “To all of you.  This is wonderful to hear.”  She turned back to the screen, her gaze drifting across the pictures. </p><p>“Did I miss anything, Lady A?”</p><p>“Don’t think so.”  Aranea glanced at Noctis and Luna for confirmation.  “Thanks, Wedge.  We’ll be in touch.  Keep up the good work.”</p><p>“Aye, General.”</p><p>The line disconnected, Ms. Michela turning off the speakerphone and getting up to open the conference room blinds.  Daylight brightened the room.</p><p>Aranea unplugged her laptop.  “I’m ready to start sorting this out whenever you are, Highness.”</p><p>“Thank you, Aranea,” Luna said, her voice oddly distant as she turned from the darkened screen.  “Perhaps after lunch?”</p><p>Aranea nodded.  “I’ll meet you at your office.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Noctis stood.  “Thanks, everyone,” he said, so the others could feel they could leave.  Even those closest to him had become much more formal ever since he’d put on the crown.</p><p>Aranea left the room.  Ms. Michela finished stowing the equipment.  …And Noctis hesitated, watching as Luna glanced out the window at the city beyond, the pensive look on her face reflected in the glass.  Should he intrude, though?  Perhaps it was best to leave her to her thoughts for now.</p><p>She saved him having to decide.  “Noctis?  What’s your schedule like for the next short while?”</p><p>“Nothing that can’t wait,” he said, not bothering to check.  Nothing on his calendar could be more important to him as she turned, gazing upon him with wistful eyes.</p><p>“Will you walk with me?”</p><p>-x-</p><p>A bit of frost dusted the rooftop garden, tiny crystals refracting the sunlight through clouds and mist.  It was one of the few times he’d been up here during the day.  Noctis trailed behind, slipping his hands into his pockets as Luna proceeded a few steps in front of him and stopped, daylight playing in her hair, alighting on the black of her suit jacket.  His stomach was a sudden jumble of knots as he waited for whatever she had to say.</p><p>She bowed her head for a moment, hands clasped, before she finally turned to face him.  “Noctis, I must go to Tenebrae.”</p><p>He should’ve expected this—of course, he should’ve.  Yet, he couldn’t help but feel like the stone beneath his feet had just been swept away.</p><p>“Not forever,” she said, “but for the next while at least.  I must do what I can to see the people settled.”</p><p>Noctis closed his eyes, drawing a breath, forcing a smile.  “You’re under no obligation to stay here, Luna,” he said, opening his eyes to look at her.  “Of course you should go home.”</p><p>Her eyes searched his and he was certain she could see right through the brave front he put up to the fragility he felt underneath.  He’d come to rely on her so much these past three months.  Even when she wasn’t by his side, just knowing she was nearby…  Without airships, Tenebrae was a week’s travel from Insomnia, at least.  It wasn’t like they’d be completely out of touch, not with the cell network and the internet now online…though it wouldn’t be the same.</p><p>Noctis sighed, rocking back on his heels.  “Gotta take the training wheels off, sometime.”  <em>Might as well be now.</em></p><p>Luna frowned.  “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Noctis.  You’ve done so much in such a short time.”</p><p>It hadn’t been <em>his</em> efforts—they both knew that.  He might’ve decided things, but it had been the others, smarter than him, and her, who’d actually done the work of making Insomnia livable again.  Making Insomnia a <em>home</em> again.</p><p>Still, he couldn’t ask her to stay just for his sake.  He wouldn’t impose on her like that.</p><p>Luna came to him.  They lightly grasped each other’s arms and Noctis lowered his head until their foreheads were touching. </p><p>“I won’t be gone long,” she said.  “I promise.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he whispered.</p>
<hr/><p>The day came within the week, so much sooner than Noctis would’ve liked.  At the base of the Citadel steps, with the cars waiting in the drive, they said their goodbyes.  He’d made his peace with it, though he was still probably hugging her too tightly, and letting go with too much reluctance. </p><p>“Be safe,” he murmured.</p><p>Luna smiled at him, one of her gloved hands coming up to cup his face, just briefly.  “You as well,” she said.</p><p>They parted, the wind playing with her coat as she headed to the car where Aranea was waiting.</p><p>“Be good, kids,” Aranea said, arm braced on the open car door.  “And don’t neglect your training.”</p><p>“Bye, Mom!”  Their voices came in chorus, Espie and the twin boys standing with Prompto and Cor.</p><p>Aranea’s eyes flicked to Prompto.  “Later, Shortcake.”</p><p>Prompto smiled, waving.  “Bye, Aranea.  Safe trip!” </p><p>It was all so weirdly <em>casual</em>, Noctis didn’t know what to make of it.  But soon all he could do was wave as Luna left, the car pulling away from the curb and driving out through the Citadel gates.</p><p>Prompto sidled up to him.  “You OK, buddy?”</p><p>Noct exhaled.  <em>Yeah, sure, just great.  </em>He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach<em>.</em>  “I’ll be OK,” he said and peered at his best friend.  “Are <em>you</em> OK?”  The kids sure seemed fine, running around and doing cartwheels on the concrete under Cor’s keen eye.</p><p>Prompto shrugged, the sunlight glinting off the buttons of his kingsglaive jacket.  “Yeah, it’s kinda the normal routine.  Sucks for the kids, but whatcha gonna do?”</p><p>Not for the first time, Noct wondered if he’d totally misread the situation.  If there really wasn’t anything going on between Prompto and Aranea, other than the parenting thing.  Prompto was mum about it, no matter how directly or obliquely he asked.</p><p>“Hey, so!  I was thinking.”  Prompto pulled out his camera.  “If you have time, I’d love to get some new shots around the city.  You know, before the weather really turns.  Plus, Vyv’s super dying for B-roll, candid shots of His Majesty out and about.”</p><p>Noct couldn’t stop a smile.  <em>I missed you, Prom.</em>  “Sure, why not?”</p><p>“Alright!”  Prompto grinned.  “Come on, kids!  Let’s get some good ones!”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>M.E. 766, December 18<sup>th</sup></em>
</p><p>“So you’re trending again,” Gladio said, sprawling out on the couch in Noct’s office as they entered.  He was scrolling through something on his phone.</p><p>“The net’s been up for three weeks and this is what they do with it,” Noct muttered, leaning over his desk and rearranging a few of his sticky notes to make room for the new ones Ms. Michela just gave him.</p><p>“Hey, people gotta take a break.  Get their mind off work, you know?”</p><p>Noctis shrugged.</p><p>Prompto popped in from the adjacent office, where he and Gladio hung out most of the time.  “Oh, it’s a good one this morning,” he said, newspaper in hand, holding up the front page for Noct to see.</p><p>A picture of Luna was front and center—she and Aranea were in work clothes with a crowd of people on the edge of a freshly seeded farm.  The headline read, <em>The remarkable progress in the Queendom of Tenebrae.</em></p><p>Noct snorted quietly.  “Vyv’s playing politics again.”</p><p>“Hey, if he says it enough, it’s gonna happen,” Gladio said, sitting up long enough to see the paper as Prompto showed it to him.</p><p>There’d been a small, but quickly growing movement as of late—gathering steam by the day, it seemed—for the entire western continent to come under Tenebrae with Luna as its Queen.  She’d been over there a week, if that?  And there were only people in and around Pagla right now, but ships were leaving Cape Caem daily—Tenebrae levying none of the restrictions Accordo had.  Anyone willing to work was welcomed.  By years’ end there would be a sizeable fraction of Eos’s population living and working on Tenebraen soil.  The vast majority of people were still in Lucis, and more were congregating in Insomnia by the day, but it was an unignorable fact that Tenebrae would need a local government sooner rather than later.</p><p>“It’s up to Luna,” Noct said, finishing with his sticky notes and flopping down into his chair.  He had a full day’s schedule ahead of him—back-to-back meetings, at least one building reopening he was due to attend, and yet another interview he wasn’t sure why he’d said yes to.  Ever since the coronation, his schedule had been slammed, as if the crown on his head magically meant things were normal again, despite all of the work still to be done, especially with Lucis on the cusp of an unprecedented winter.  Every day at least one meteorologist was panicking, farmers across Duscae and Cleigne clamoring for guidance, and though Sania Yeagre and her team were making progress towards solutions, they weren’t in a position yet to roll anything out, given the uncertainty of the forecast projections and with seeds being a precious and limited commodity.</p><p>“Hey Prom, remember that <em>Lestallum’s most eligible bachelors</em> list?” Gladio asked.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Prompto perched on the edge of the couch.</p><p>“There’s an Insomnia list now.  Just posted.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?  How’d we do?”</p><p>“Top five.”</p><p>“Top five?!”</p><p>Noct rolled his eyes, booting up his laptop so he could check his email.</p><p>“You’re number five, specifically,” Gladio said.</p><p>“Me?”  Prompto huffed.  “Who’s ahead of me?”</p><p>“That Alderic guy’s number four.”</p><p>“Pff, that guy.”</p><p>Alderic was a hunter who’d come over from Lestallum.  Noct had barely met him, but he made Vyv’s newspaper a lot, apparently.</p><p>“I’m number three.”</p><p>“Oh, whatever.”  Prompto chucked a decorative pillow at Gladio’s face.  “Who’s two then?”</p><p>Gladio snorted, amused.  “Grandpa Cor.”</p><p>Noct cocked a brow.  “Cor?”</p><p>Gladio waved his phone.  “The pic’s of Cor with Espie.  Single guy with salt and pepper hair and grandkids?  The ladies <em>live</em> for that stuff, come on.”</p><p>“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, going back to his email.</p><p>“Number one’s His Majesty, naturally.”</p><p>Noct sighed.</p><p>“Figures,” Prompto said.</p><p>“Should your name even be on that list, Prom?” Noct asked, looking over the top of his laptop.</p><p>Gladio smirked.</p><p>Prompto’s cheeks turned pink, his freckles standing out.  “Why not?  It’s flattering, I guess.”</p><p>“But what would Aranea and the kids think?”</p><p>“Dude!”  Prompto sprung off the couch, his face reddening.  “Don’t get the wrong idea!  We might be parenting together—that’s just kind of how it worked out.  But that doesn’t mean uh, I mean, it’s not—”</p><p>Noct watched his best friend flounder.  “Sure,” he said, keeping his voice deliberately casual.  “If you say so.”</p><p>“<em>Noct!</em>”</p><p>Noct ducked behind his laptop, hiding his smile.</p><p>“Come on, Gladio.  Help me out!”</p><p>“You know, I <em>happened</em> to run into Cor that night before Aranea left.  When he was taking care of the kids.”</p><p>“I was helping her pack for the trip!”</p><p>“<em>Right</em>.”  Gladio laughed.  “Packing.  All night.”</p><p>“<em>Ugh</em>.  What about <em>you</em>, big guy?  What’s Valora think, with your name on that list?”</p><p>“Dunno.  Haven’t asked her.”</p><p>“Where’s the bachelorette list?  She’s gotta be on it.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Gladio said.  “Number two.”</p><p>“<em>Dude.</em>”</p><p>Noct whistled lowly.  “Better get going on that ring, Gladio.”</p><p>“Hmph.  Thinking about it.”</p><p>“Gimme that.”  Prompto grabbed Gladio’s phone.  “Nea’s number three.  Wow, Iris is number four, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah, great.”  Gladio sighed.</p><p>“No surprise Luna’s number one.”</p><p>“It doesn’t really make sense to have her name on an Insomnian list,” Noct said.  <em>Not like she lives here anymore.</em></p><p>“Guess they’re making an exception,” Gladio murmured.</p><p>“I guess.”  Prompto handed the phone back.</p><p>Noct’s intercom buzzed.  He tore his gaze from his laptop screen, depressing the button.  “Yes?”</p><p>“Your eight o’clock, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Yes.”  He stood up, shooing Gladio and Prompto from his office with a wave.  “Send them in.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>“Are you at all concerned about the balance of power shifting away from Lucis, Your Majesty?”  The interviewer’s name was Josefine.  She wore a black suit with a white button-up and a sky-blue tie, her brown hair gathered into a sleek bun.  Josefine watched him through wirerimmed glasses, a recording device on the coffee table between them.  “With Accordo making strides towards being self-sustaining and now the success in Tenebrae?”</p><p>The studio was a block away from the Citadel, Gladio and Dustin having accompanied him.  They stood near the door with members of Josefine’s staff.</p><p>Noctis shook his head.  “It was never my intention to consolidate power under Lucis.  I’m grateful we were able to provide a haven for everyone during the Night, but it’s natural for that to change now.  At this point, we’re still very much dependent on each other, but my hope is, even when that’s not the case, that we’ll still enjoy strong ties of friendship with Accordo and Tenebrae.”</p><p>“And the rumors of the whole of the western continent uniting under Tenebraen rule, with the Oracle at the helm?”</p><p>“That’s entirely up to them.”</p><p>“Even given your own close, personal ties to Her Highness, as well as General Highwind?”</p><p>Noctis exhaled.  “As I said, Josefine, it’s really for them to sort out.  The western continent is their home and I trust Her Highness and General Highwind to make the best decisions with their people in mind, just as I will for Lucis and Insomnia.  We’ll stay in close contact, the same way First Secretary Claustra and I talk regularly.  Right now, my priority is stability in Lucis and Insomnia for the coming winter.  As you know, Doctor Sania Yeagre is heading up research for our agricultural program, and—”</p><p>-x-</p><p>The interview was published the next day in the newspapers as well as online with audio.  Noctis frowned at the headline, <em>Close ties between the Kingdom of Lucis and the Queendom of Tenebrae</em>, with a picture of him and Luna on the front page—a candid photo of them out in Insomnia earlier in the month. </p><p>“I spend a half-hour talking about all of the programs we’re working on across Lucis and <em>this</em> is what they publish.”  Noctis rubbed his brow with one hand, setting the newspaper down on his desk.</p><p>“The media usually has something they’re after,” Ms. Michela said.  “Maybe it’s time you issued proclamations of your own?  You’ve been sending information to the workgroups within Insomnia for a while now.  You could expand those communications to the rest of Lucis.”</p><p>Noctis nodded.  “The silence gets filled one way or another, I guess?”</p><p>“Might as well give them something to chew on.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noctis leaned back in his chair.  “I’ll think about it during my copious amounts of free time today.”</p><p>She gave him a sympathetic smile.  “You have an hour free this afternoon.  I can block out more time on your schedule later this week.”</p><p>“Thanks.  Anything else?”</p><p>“One thing.”  Ms. Michela glanced down at her notes.  “Accordo said they’re sending a shipment—a thank you for the food and supplies we sent last month.”</p><p>“That was to help them get settled.”  Noctis frowned.  “I made it clear to First Secretary Claustra we weren’t expecting anything in return.”</p><p>She nodded.  “I know.  It’s supposed to be textiles and other sundries, so at first blush, I’d say it qualifies as a thank you gift.  The First Secretary said there was something specifically for you, also, though she didn’t elaborate.”</p><p>“Great.”  Noctis smiled wryly.  “I’ll look forward to the surprise.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>“Somehow, I never thought it was gonna be this tiring,” Noct said, sitting on the floor against Ignis’s cot.  “No wonder my dad looked exhausted all the time.  It wasn’t just the Wall.”  He sighed, leaning back, his head bumping Ignis’s hand as he gazed up at the ruined vault ceiling and the darkness beyond.  “I didn’t think just putting on the crown was going to change so much.  I mean, I was king before, right?  Dad’s been gone a long time.”</p><p>Noct closed his eyes.  “Suddenly everyone has all these <em>expectations</em>.  They want to know what I think about the <em>future</em>.  I’m just trying to get us through the next three months?!”  He scrubbed his face with both hands.  “It was easier when Luna was here, but she’s got plenty of her own stuff to deal with, over in Tenebrae.  We’ll be that much stronger when they come online.  I mean, their farms and livestock are probably going to be that extra something that helps us all get through the coming winter.  But it’s just…” <em>so much</em>.</p><p>Noct shifted, twisting to his left so he could rest his cheek against Ignis’s knuckles.  “Could really use your help, Specs.”  The ache returned, hollow and empty in his chest.  “I always feel like I’m one bad decision away from screwing everything up.  Which, I know is ridiculous, but…”</p><p>
  <em>But I really want you back.</em>
</p><p>Three months…and each day hope got a little bit harder and the Crystal got a little bit fainter.</p><p>The Armiger only had weapons left in it.  All of their personal effects and camping gear had already come out.  Gladio and Prompto had claimed their bins.  Only Ignis’s remained and it had never gotten more than partway full.  Aside from the cookware, there’d only been a few things that had truly been Ignis’s—the recipe book, a few cans of Ebony long expired, a chocolate-espresso-flavored protein bar that had never been eaten, his cane and glasses, and a few toiletries including a mostly empty bottle of aftershave.  Compared to the others, Ignis had collected so very little during the ten-year Night.  Almost as if he’d been frozen in the same loop of time, of existence, while Noct was stuck in the Crystal.</p><p>The analogy wasn’t really fair.  Ignis had spent those years learning to fight again, to cook again—to gain back all that the price of the ring had taken from him.</p><p>Just so he could give his all to Noct, once more.</p><p>How selfish Noct was to want more from him, to want more of him.  And yet…  Noct gripped Ignis’s hand, breathing a sigh.</p><p>At length, he dragged himself to his feet and went to turn in for the night.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>M.E. 766, December 23<sup>rd</sup></em>
</p><p>“I don’t know, it just seems…wasteful?”  Noct glanced up at his Shield.  “To consider a banquet, given the circumstances.”</p><p>Gladio matched his stride down the corridor, between meetings.  “I’m with you.  But I get the argument.  People are getting fatigued.  They want something to look forward to.”</p><p><strong><em>They’re </em></strong><em>getting fatigued…</em>  “Well, the solstice is already behind us.  New Year's is just over a week from now—too soon.  The spring equinox would be ideal, but…”</p><p>“But that’s three months away.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>They got to the elevator, Gladio pushing the button.  As they waited, Noct rubbed a hand over his forehead.</p><p>“How’ve you been sleeping lately?” Gladio asked.</p><p>“Not great.”  No point in lying about it.</p><p>“Monica says you’ve been down in the vault a lot—”</p><p>“Don’t get on my case about it.”</p><p>“Huh.”  Gladio shook his head.</p><p>Noctis winced.  “I’m sorry.  I just…”</p><p>“Nah.  I get it.”</p><p>The lift arrived.  As they were boarding, Noct’s phone chirped.  He pulled it out, glancing at the caller before answering.  “Iris.”</p><p>“Hey Noct!  Um…any chance you’re near the atrium?”</p><p>“We can be.”  He pushed the button for the first floor.</p><p>“Great!  Because that thing from Accordo arrived for you…and it’s kind of a big deal.”</p><p>“We’re on our way,” he said and hung up.</p><p>Iris was waiting for them when the elevator doors opened, bright-eyed and bouncing on the balls of her feet.  “Oh my gosh, Noct.  Wait ‘til you see!”  She grabbed his arm, dragging him through the hallway and he really had no choice but to go with her.</p><p>“<em>Iris</em>, what could—”  They got to the atrium where workers were carefully unwrapping a very large <em>something</em>—tall, with a square base.  He caught a glimpse of glass as the shipping blankets were pulled away and underneath—</p><p>Noct went numb, wholly and fully <em>numb</em>, as he stared without blinking at Luna’s wedding dress.</p><p>It was just the way he’d seen it in the display window in Altissia, still on the mannequin even—the strapless, asymmetrical bust, the outward flare at the hips to a full skirt with multiple layers, the elegant, detached sleeves…  The dress glowed beneath the atrium lights, pristine in the display case, as beautiful now as when he’d first laid eyes on it…and he felt frozen in place, icy shards gathering in his stomach as he looked at it.</p><p>
  <em>Why did they send this?</em>
</p><p>“This is the dress, huh??”  Iris was almost squealing.  “Wow!  I mean, just look at it!!  Ten years and it’s still perfect!”</p><p>No small miracle, that—surviving Leviathan’s Rite and the decade of endless darkness.</p><p>“Luna’d look amazing in it, don’t you think?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said, his voice sounding flat to his own ears.  “Of course.”</p><p>She didn’t seem to notice.  “There’s no stopping you two now, right?”  Iris smiled slyly at him.  “You’re the king.  You need a queen.  Maybe a few heirs…?  No more prophecy to worry about and you’re both miraculously alive.  That’s <em>gotta</em> be a sign.”</p><p>Heirs…right.  That whole thing.  All of that <em>stuff</em> that came with being king.  A sign?  “I guess,” he said.  It probably was.</p><p>“You guess?”  Iris glommed onto his arm.  “Oh, come on.  You two are the <em>cutest!</em>  You can’t tell me you don’t love her.”</p><p>Of course he loved her.  He’d loved her since they were kids together in Tenebrae, decades ago.  A hard lump formed in Noct’s throat, making it difficult to breathe.</p><p>Gladio gently separated Iris from his arm.  “Give the guy some space, huh?”</p><p>“I’m just saying.”  Iris danced back, all smiles.  “If you need help planning a wedding, I’m <em>all</em> over it.”</p><p>“…Yeah,” Noctis said.  “Thanks.”</p><p>She scampered off with a grin.</p><p>One of the workers came over, holding out a card.  “This was attached to it, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Noctis took it, recognizing Camelia Claustra’s flawless handwriting—<em>To His Majesty, Noctis Lucis Caelum, CXIV</em>—on the envelope.  He broke the seal and opened it, withdrawing the flat card inside.</p><p>‘<em>Thought you might find a use for this.  </em></p><p>
  <em>Congratulations on your ascension, Your Majesty.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Regards,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Camelia Claustra’</em>
</p><p>Noctis let his hand drop to his side, his gaze once more fixed on the dress. </p><p>“What’s it say?” Gladio asked.</p><p>Noctis wordlessly handed over the envelope and card.</p><p>Gladio read it and exhaled.  “Some gift, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noctis pressed his lips.  “Iris seemed pretty excited.”</p><p>“Well, I mean—”</p><p>“She wouldn’t be the only one,” he said quietly.  “A wedding would be a pretty big deal, wouldn’t it.”  It wasn’t a question.</p><p>“Yeah, obviously.  But that’s not the point—”</p><p>Noctis inhaled.  “I guess I just never considered.”</p><p>“Considered what?”</p><p>“Having another chance at things.”  That’s what this was, wasn’t it?</p><p>“…If that’s what you’d call it.”</p><p>Noctis swallowed.  “I don’t know.”  He turned, heading for the hallway.</p><p>“Noct—”</p><p>“Your Majesty, where should we…?”</p><p>He ignored the voices and boarded the elevator alone.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The rest of the day was an absolute blur.  Noctis sleepwalked through his meetings, answered emails, did all of the things he was supposed to do without remembering half of it by the time he was back in his apartment, having skipped dinner.  He sat on the couch in his bedroom, staring at the cold fireplace without seeing anything.  There was one light on, casting an amber glow across the rug after sunset with the rest of the room bathed in shadow.</p><p>The front door chimed.</p><p>Noctis didn’t feel like getting up.  He pulled his phone from his pocket, navigated to the security network, and saw Prompto on the CCTV feed.  Exhaling, Noctis hit ‘unlock’ and sat back, dropping his phone onto the cushions beside him.</p><p>He heard the front door open.</p><p>“Noct?”</p><p>“In here.”</p><p>A moment later, Prompto was standing in his bedroom doorway, brow furrowed with concern.  “Hey, buddy,” he said, all gentle tones and eggshells.  “So…I heard—”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct waved him over.</p><p>Prompto sat on the couch beside him.  For a moment, they were both quiet, staring at the dark fireplace with its decorative logs.</p><p>“…It’s on the net?” Noct asked.  He hadn’t checked and wouldn’t.</p><p>“…Yeah.”  Prom nodded.  “Someone got a picture.  It wasn’t one of us, but—”</p><p>“Could’ve been anyone on either side,” Noct said, sighing.  “Anyone from Accordo to here, who happened to catch a glimpse.”  He shook his head.  “It’s a pretty ridiculous thing to send.  Especially in a case like that, when transportation’s at a premium.”</p><p>“Yeah.  Probably took up a good amount of space on the boat, huh?”</p><p>“Probably.”  Noct leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together.</p><p>“So…”  Prompto paused, cleared his throat.  “You really…  You’re really thinking about it?”</p><p>Noct looked down at his hands.  “There’s no way I don’t think about it, I guess.”</p><p>“Well, sure.  Elephant in the room and all…”  Prom trailed off.</p><p><em>Yeah</em>.  Noct closed his eyes.  Iris wasn’t wrong.  The kingdom needed a queen, the line needed heirs.  That was a given since the moment he was born.  It wasn’t important when he was supposed to die, but now that he’d lived…  Now that <em>Luna</em> was alive…</p><p>“Look, don’t get me wrong.  Luna’s great!  She’s even more amazing than all the stories, you know?”  Prom didn’t have to fake his enthusiasm, Noct knew he’d been crazy about Luna forever.  Since before he and Prompto even met, really.  “And it’s totally obvious that you care about each other a lot, but—”</p><p>“All that should be enough, right?” Noct said.  He could do a lot worse for a political marriage.  “It’s true I didn’t really want to get married before.  I was a kid back then.  But it was never…”  He laced his fingers together.  “Luna wasn’t the problem.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Prom said quietly.  “I get it.  Just…”</p><p>Noct squeezed his eyes shut.  “Just <em>what?”</em> <em> Don’t say it.  Please don’t say it.</em></p><p>“…Never mind.”  Prompto let out a slow breath.  “It’s your decision, Noct.  Yours and Luna’s, I mean.”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Um, sleep on it at least?”</p><p>Noct huffed—a bitter, half-laugh—and straightened up, looking at his best friend.  “Don’t worry.  I’m in no shape to make any decisions right now.”</p><p>Prom nodded, worry etched into his face.  “OK.  And you know, if you want to talk more, me and Gladio…anytime—”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct reached out, gripping Prompto’s shoulder.  “I know.”</p><p>Prompto’s expression eased the slightest bit.  “You hungry at all?  You missed dinner.”</p><p>“Nah.  I’ll eat in the morning.”  Noct leaned back against the cushions.  “Just gonna shower and turn in early tonight.”</p><p>“OK.  See you at breakfast then?”</p><p>“Count on it.”  Noct smiled as best he could, holding up his fist.</p><p>Prom smiled back at him, bumping their knuckles together.  “‘Night, then.”</p><p>“G’night, Prom.”</p><p>He left, Noct listening to the sound of the front door opening and closing. </p><p>Noctis got up before he could talk himself out of it and showered, brushed his teeth, dressed for bed…  He climbed between the covers and barely slept at all.</p>
<hr/><p>For several days, Noctis tried to ignore it.  The dress was put in storage.  He didn’t issue any statements or answer any questions either way.  Forty-eight hours was the rule for things to become old news on the internet, right?  But after a week there were still rumors, knowing looks, and excited whispers, no matter how much Gladio, Prompto, and Ms. Michela tried to shield him from it.  Noct tried to stay busy, but in the end, having to decide between holing up or lashing out wasn’t going to work.  He needed to do something—the right thing.</p><p>After a week, Noctis went to the vault.</p><p>He waited for Dustin to close the door behind him before he went to Ignis’s side and sank down to his knees on the floor.  The monitors with their flat lines and the dying light of the Crystal illuminated Ignis’s face, his scars, his bandaged and motionless chest, his hands lying open at his sides.</p><p>Noctis lifted Ignis’s hand, guiding Ignis’s fingers to the crown in his hair—feather-light precious metals, as weighty as the world for all their significance.  He held Ignis’s hand there and looked into the face of the one he loved.</p><p>“Your advice is what I want,” he whispered, words forced past the lump in his throat and the ache in his chest.  “But I already know what you’re going to say.”  Because he’d been engaged before.  Because <em>protocol</em>, because Ignis only confessed to him when he was supposed to die.</p><p>Noctis swallowed, gripping Ignis’s hand.  “You <em>promised</em>.  So I know you’ll come back to me.”  Tears burned in his eyes, blurring his vision of Ignis’s face.  “I need you, by my side.  The kingdom might not wait.  But I will, <em>always.</em>”  He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the center of Ignis’s palm, his tears dripping onto Ignis’s fingers. </p><p>In the painful silence, Noctis sucked in a breath, returning Ignis’s hand to his side, and withdrew.  He dried his face as he left the vault.</p><p>Taking the stairs down to the gardens, Noctis went outside alone, the setting sun painting his city with red and golden light.  He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times with his thumb, and lifted it to his ear.  And he held his breath, waiting.</p><p>It only rang once before Luna answered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was early January, six days into the new year, when Luna returned to Insomnia.  Noctis canceled all of his meetings and put on his best suit.  He took the time to ensure his hair was perfect, the crown sitting just so over his right ear.  There wasn’t much to be done about the shadows under his eyes, however.  He’d known a lot of sleepless nights in the past week, many of them spent in his office staring at a computer screen until the words blurred together.</p><p>He thought about getting a ring, but ultimately decided against it.  Luna had always been <em>practical</em>, and it seemed an antiquated and presumptuous tradition, hardly appropriate for another nation’s sovereign.  Luna hadn’t announced herself as queen of Tenebrae, nor ascended in any official capacity, but she was the de facto ruler of the rapidly growing Tenebraen state.  For that reason alone, she might say no.</p><p>On the other hand, she’d come all the way back to Insomnia just because he’d asked.</p><p>Snow had fallen for the better part of the prior week, glistening in tufts all across the city.  Below freezing temperatures kept it from melting, which meant workers had shoveled the front steps of the Citadel all the way down to the circular drive and made sure the walkways were appropriately sanded.  Most everything was still subject to rationing these days, but acquiring sand was no issue, at least.</p><p>Noctis wore a black overcoat, scarf, and gloves to ward off the cold as he waited at the base of the stairs and watched a sleek, black sedan pull around the drive.  It stopped against the curb, its tinted windows impenetrable.  The front passenger door opened, one of Luna’s Tenebraen assistants emerging in white.  She opened the back door and offered her hand.</p><p>Luna stepped out, dressed in a double-breasted trench coat of cream wool, a blue scarf the color of sylleblossoms swirled around her neck.  Her hair was down and loose and golden, her head warmed by a beret as she let her assistant bear her to the curb, her gloves made from pearl-white leather.  She looked as lovely as always and it made Noct’s stomach twist, his nerves knotted up inside him.</p><p>He went to greet her, extending his hand.  “Your Highness.”</p><p>Luna smiled at him, soft and formal, placing her hand in his.  “Your Majesty.”</p><p>Her entourage of two attendants followed them as he guided her up the Citadel steps on his arm.  “You’ve had a long trip.  Would you care to rest a while?” Noctis asked.  His voice sounded normal enough and he meant the offer, even if the need to speak with her was burning a hole in his chest.</p><p>Luna glanced at him.  If she noticed his anxiety bleeding through, she didn’t mention it.  “Actually, I’ve been sitting a rather long time.  I’d appreciate the chance to stretch my legs.”</p><p>Noctis nodded, grateful.</p><p>They left her attendants and his crownsguard on the 21<sup>st</sup> floor and went out to the gardens alone, Luna’s hand tucked in his.  The paths and benches had been carefully cleared off, while each flowerbed and frozen branch glistened in the sunlight.  The fountain was a circle of undisturbed snow, save where small birds had hopped through the fresh powder, leaving their tracks.</p><p>Away from prying eyes and ears, Noctis felt he could drop the formality, though his nerves only intensified.  He led Luna away from the entrance, his shoes and her heeled boots clicking on the flagstones, their breath misting in the air.</p><p>“And how is your friend?” Luna asked.  “Has there been any change?”</p><p>Noct’s heart wrenched in his chest.  “No change.”  Days shy of four months, now, and the only difference in the vault was the Crystal’s ever-fading light.</p><p>“I’ll check on him before I leave.  It may not be much, but I will do what I can.”</p><p>“Thank you,” he said, meaning it with his entire being.  Yet his mouth was dry, his voice a scratchy, labored echo of what it should have been.</p><p>“Of course,” she said, squeezing his hand.  “Though it’s not why you called me here.”</p><p>They came to a stop near the bench they’d first unearthed together.  Noctis looked down at their hands, swallowed, and lifted his gaze.  Luna’s cheeks and the tip of her nose were rosy from the cold, her eyes regarding him gently and warmly as always.  Yet solace eluded him; he wondered if she could read the turbulent, swirling thoughts within him.</p><p>“You’ve heard about the dress?” he asked.</p><p>A wry smile touched her petal pink lips.  “Interesting the First Secretary saw fit to send it to <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Something in Noctis’s chest loosened.  Political talk, he could handle.  “I don’t actually see how she would benefit from it.  A consolidation of power between Lucis and Tenebrae would seem to be a threat to an independent Accordo.”</p><p>Luna nodded.  “You’re not wrong.  But I believe her aim is different.”</p><p>“How so?”</p><p>Luna gently pulled free, walking a few steps away and looking towards the horizon and the western sections of the city.  “She would see me out of Tenebrae and the western continent ruled by others.  The First Secretary is not fond of dynasty, Noctis.”  Luna glanced at him over her shoulder.  “That is what we are, that is what Niflheim was.”</p><p>While Accordo had an elected leader—a government by the people.  Noct slipped his hands into his pockets.  “Can’t say I really disagree with her.  Regarding government.”  Would he have picked this job growing up, if he’d had a choice?  Hell no.</p><p>Luna smiled.  “For a time, our lines were necessary.  It was how the power was passed.”  She clasped her gloved hands before her.  “But that era is over.  I will be the last Oracle of Eos, the last royal of the House of Nox Fleuret.”</p><p>The knots in his stomach tightened when Noctis realized what she was saying.  “You will not be Queen of Tenebrae.”</p><p>Luna shook her head.</p><p>“Does that mean…”  He swallowed, his voice rough.  “…that you’re willing to be…?”  <em>My queen?  The Queen of Lucis?</em></p><p>She turned to face him, lifting her eyes to search his.</p><p>He tried to find the words.  He’d even written it out and practiced.  “Luna, I…”  Noctis exhaled, his breath pluming between them.  “Lady Lunafreya.  I know things weren’t…right before.  Regardless of what happened, I was too young, too selfish.”  Noctis frowned, shaking himself before he went on.  “But now I have a chance to be someone worthy of who you and my father hoped I’d be.  I realize the timing and the circumstances still aren’t—”  Damnit, he was mucking this up, wasn’t he?  “But I know…”  Noctis got down on one knee and tried again, gazing up at her.  “You’re the only woman I could ever see myself with.  I don’t expect to be perfect, but I would do everything in my power to be the husband you deserve.”</p><p>“Oh, Noctis.”  Luna’s eyes gleamed.  She came back to him, dropping down and hugging him tightly.  “What sweet words you gift me.”</p><p>“Should’ve practiced more,” he said, his face heating.</p><p>She withdrew, smiling at him, and tugged him up by the hand.  “Come, sit with me.”  Luna drew him to the bench where they sat together, hands clasped, their knees close but not quite touching.  “Noctis, I would ask that you answer me truthfully, knowing that whatever you say will not change how I think of you, not one bit.”</p><p>Noctis pressed his lips, looking at their hands and at her, forcing his way through his reluctance.  “Alright.”</p><p>“Given all that’s happening now—<em>everything</em>…” she paused on the word, looking at him closely, “is marriage truly what you want?”</p><p>He sat back, drawing a breath.  “We wouldn’t have to get married right away.  Just, eventually—”  As soon as he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. </p><p><em>Way to tell a lady you ‘eventually’ wanna marry her, Noct.</em>  He could imagine Gladio rolling his eyes.  Or smacking him upside the head.  <em>Idiot.</em></p><p>“Oh, I <em>see</em>,” Luna said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.</p><p>His face burned.  “I didn’t mean—”</p><p>“Noctis.”  Luna squeezed his hand.  “I realize you feel beholden to your people and the traditions of Lucis, but your presence and guidance are enough.  You must decide, beyond that, what parts of the past you cling to and what parts you create anew.  Marry because you <em>want</em> to.  Not out of duty.”</p><p>“Because <em>I </em>want to,” he murmured, letting out a laden sigh.  “I meant what I said, Luna.  I couldn’t see myself with any other woman besides you.”</p><p>She looked down at their hands and smiled.  “I have no doubt that you love me.  And we are family in every sense of the word.  But should we be lovers, Noctis?” Luna asked, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes.</p><p>Noctis’s eyes widened.  <em>Hadn’t…gotten that far?</em>  Honestly, the last time he’d thought about…<em>sex</em>…was Astrals’ knew how long ago.  Before Altissia, maybe even before Insomnia’s Fall…  It’d been one thing after another, an unending string of losses to grieve.  So he hadn’t <em>really</em>…in ages…  Noctis swallowed.  “Maybe not…right away…but…”</p><p>Luna tilted her head, arching a brow.  “…Eventually?” she asked, warm and teasing.</p><p>Noctis sucked in a breath.  “Luna, I’m not a kid anymore.”</p><p>Luna searched his eyes for a moment.  Whatever she saw had her shifting, facing him squarely.  “Kiss me then.”</p><p>He knew a dare when he saw one.  She didn’t think he would do it.  But he <em>did</em> love her and it <em>could</em> be ‘that way’…  Noctis pulled off his gloves, reaching towards her face.  Luna’s eyes widened momentarily, then fluttered closed as he brushed his thumb lightly over her cheek.  Heart pounding, he leaned in, gaze falling to her lips, angling his head to avoid mashing their noses together.  He’d have to be gentle about this, careful not to do it too hard, not like—</p><p>Not like when he threw himself at Ignis in Gralea, when he crushed their mouths together as if he could fuse them into one.</p><p>Was it completely his fault?  Ignis was the one who said ridiculous things to him, like, <em>I’d choose you over the world, Noct, </em>and, <em>I’ll never be—ready to let you go.  </em>Words that stirred all kinds of wants and needs and other things inside him—</p><p>Noct stopped, an inch away from kissing Luna, if that.  He drew back, all of his feelings a jumbled mess.</p><p>And Luna looked at him, not surprised, <em>knowing.</em></p><p>Noct lowered his hand, sitting back against the bench.  “Calling my bluff?”</p><p>“Testing your stubborn-headedness, more like,” she said with an amused smile.  She took his hand, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.  “Noctis, I know I’m not the one foremost in your heart and I am not injured by this fact.  But do <em>you</em> know?”</p><p>“I…” he whispered, suddenly overcome. </p><p>Luna’s brow knit.  “Or are you trying so hard to be what you <em>should </em>be…that you’re not listening to who you <em>are?”</em></p><p>His eyes filled with tears.  “I miss him.”  <em>Terribly.</em>  He pulled away to brush hastily at his face. </p><p>“Then why not wait,” she said, the soothing tones of her voice washing over him.  “And when he wakes, see what you sort out of this.  That which your heart is trying to tell you.”</p><p>Noct dried his eyes, gathering himself with a breath—long and slow.  He felt a wave of…relief?  <em>Huh</em>.  Noct shook his head.  “You’re right.”  <em>Of course.</em>  He twisted to face her, gingerly touching her hand.  “Luna, I—”</p><p>“Don’t you dare be sorry, Noctis,” she said, smiling at him warmly.</p><p>He nodded.  <em>But</em>—  “Will you…  Will you tell me what <em>you</em> want?  Before…”  Noct hesitated and tried again.  “You seemed to be looking forward to it.”</p><p>Luna leaned her shoulder against the bench and sighed wistfully.  “A lifetime ago, for me.  For both of us.”  She toyed idly with his hand.  “I did.  But even then, I knew it was not to be.  It was always my destiny to die, and in doing so, make a way for you.”</p><p>Noct gripped her hand.  “It wasn’t fair.”</p><p>She smiled at him without any trace of sadness.  “No,” she said.  “But I would not trade who I am now for who I was then.  As for <em>my</em> heart, it can never only be yours.  <em>All</em> of Eos is my bride and groom and I live to give my everything to them.”</p><p>Noct relaxed a little, understanding the truth of her words, feeling it in his bones.  “That does sound like you.”</p><p>“I do favor you, Noctis.”  Luna reached up, her gloved fingers gliding over the side of his face in a gentle caress.  “You are ever so dear to me.”</p><p>He exhaled, feeling lighter, leaning into her touch.  “And you to me.”</p><p>Luna smiled and shifted closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder.  “Indulge me a bit longer.  I find such sweet peace in your company.”</p><p>Noct slipped his arm around her, resting his head against her beret and against her hair.  He closed his eyes, feeling the tension bleed from his body.  This, finally, felt right—felt like <em>them.</em></p><p>-x-</p><p>When they went back inside, pink-cheeked from the cold and holding hands, Gladio and Prompto were waiting, Prom nearly pressed against the door.</p><p>His gaze flicked between their hands and their faces, confusion furrowing his brow.  “So, uhm…”</p><p>“Are congratulations in order?” Gladio asked.</p><p>Noct smiled, glancing aside at Luna.  “Can I tell people you shot me down?”</p><p>“Heavens!”  Luna laughed.  “Just say I talked some sense into you, my goodness.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>good</em>.”  Prom let out a huge breath and immediately turned red.  “I mean, not like that, just—  <em>Finally</em>, someone you’d listen to.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “If I don’t listen to myself, why would I listen to you?”</p><p>“Dude!  That’s, like, the whole point of having friends?!”</p><p>Gladio folded his arms and smirked.  “Listen to the guy with the goatee.  He’s right.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>come on</em>.  <em>Why?</em>”</p><p>Noct shook his head, drawing Luna down the hall between his friends.  “Hey, we’re just going upstairs for a sec.  Can you guys, uh.”  He paused, his smile faltering as the ache returned to his chest, though he tried not to let it show.  “Can you bring Luna’s attendants to meet us, outside the vault?  We’ll just be a few minutes.”</p><p>They knew anyways.</p><p>“Yeah,” Prompto said, his voice sober and soft.  “Sure thing, buddy.  Count on it.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Noct said, exhaling as Luna squeezed his hand.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The daylight in the vault was much brighter than the Crystal’s glow.  Noct stood beside Luna, a lump forming in his throat as she sank down into the chair at Ignis’s bedside, as she bowed her head and silently prayed.  There was no mistaking the yearning of his heart, crying out in silent anguish, stronger than anything else he felt.  <em>Ignis, please…</em></p><p>Luna shifted the chair closer to Ignis’s head.  “Noctis, your hand,” she said, taking off her gloves.</p><p>He did the same, giving her his right hand and leaning over as she guided his palm down to the bandages at the center of Ignis’s chest.</p><p>“Close your eyes,” she said, her left hand atop his as she bent forward, cradling Ignis’s face with her right hand and touching her brow to his. </p><p>Noct complied, letting out a shuddering breath.</p><p>“Blessed stars of life and light…”</p><p>He felt her magic—Providence’s provision—flow through her, warmth suffusing through her fingers, through his hand, and into Ignis’s chest beneath his palm.  And for a second, for one <em>glorious</em> second, he felt something stirring underneath.  Perhaps it was only her magic, maybe nothing more than that, but it felt like a promise—like certainty, like <em>hope</em>, alive and pulsing beneath his hand.</p><p>The moment faded, the warmth of her magic dissipating, and Luna withdrew.  Noct inhaled a trembling breath and suddenly there were tears in his eyes, streaking down his cheeks.  He didn’t know why, exactly, because for once he wasn’t sad, despairing, and hopeless.  It wasn’t ecstatic joy, either.  But it was emotion, a whole flood of it, and his shoulders shook as he stood there with his hand still pressed to Ignis’s chest.</p><p>Luna said nothing, only came and wrapped her arms around him, holding him through it.</p>
<hr/><p>Luna remained in Insomnia two more days.  Twice more, she attended Ignis and allowed Noct to feel the magic.  He felt the same surge of hope each time, though the only change in the end was the slightest uptick in Ignis’s temperature, an increase of 0.1 degrees C.  Snow fell lightly on the morning when they again said their goodbyes, and Luna returned to Tenebrae.</p><p>Over the next two weeks, the Armiger divested itself of the rest of their weapons.  Daggers and firearms and shields, swords and greatswords and polearms—they spilled clanging to the vault’s floor, sometimes twice in one day, morning and evening.  Everything save the royal arms, which had turned to light, as much sense as Noct could make of it; their only remnant was a glitter of steel dust in the heart of the Crystal.  Noct, Prompto, and Gladio picked what arms they wanted to keep; the rest he sent to the Citadel armory.  Of course, he kept Ignis’s favorite polearm and pair of daggers. </p><p>By late January, the Armiger was empty, no longer producing gifts every morning, and the Crystal barely glowed.  Ignis’s temperature was 35.2 degrees C, enough to fuel Noct’s hope and to make the waiting that much more painful.  He had Ignis’s vitals streamed to his phone and set up notifications to alert him to even the smallest change.  Between meetings, he would catch himself checking, obsessively, that the notifications were working.  They <em>were</em>.  There just wasn’t anything new to tell him.</p><p>Noct didn’t sleep, tossing fitfully most nights, prying himself out of bed each morning with his alarm.  He used his collection of stimulants and energy drinks, freed from the Armiger, to get him through the day.  Not the best idea probably, but it worked for a while.</p><p>Until the night he didn’t sleep at all, staring up at the ceiling in his darkened bedroom as the minutes ticked by, each one slower than the last.</p><p>“<em>Fuck it</em>.”  He got up, throwing a robe on over his pajamas, grabbing a blanket and pillow.  He headed down to the vault.</p><p>Monica was on duty and wordlessly let him in, not asking questions.</p><p>Noct curled up on the floor beside Ignis’s cot, in the near pitch black with only a weak sliver of blue in the core of the Crystal.  He slept for five hours straight—the most sleep he’d gotten in days.  For once, he felt energized and awake.</p><p>Monica was still on duty when he left the vault.</p><p>“Can we get a cot set up in there?” he asked.</p><p>Concern flickered in her eyes, but she nodded.  “Of course, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Noct went to his apartment to shower and dress, then headed to his office.  The administrative complex was just waking up for the day, though by now Ms. Michela and his staff were used to seeing him at all hours of the day or night.</p><p>He entered his office and glanced at the door on the left wall that led into the adjacent office.  Prompto and Gladio hadn’t arrived yet, so the room was empty when he went inside. </p><p>Noct stood in the center of it, taking in the desk and chairs and rugs, the bookshelves, file cabinets, and all the various end tables and pillars displaying antique vases and the like.  He crossed to the desk and depressed the intercom.  “Ms. Michela.”</p><p>She answered immediately.  “Yes, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Has Natalie arrived yet?”</p><p>“She has, sir.”</p><p>“Would you send her to meet me in my chamberlain’s office?”</p><p>“Right away, Your Majesty.”</p><p>It wasn’t maybe three minutes later that the door opened.  Natalie strode into the room in a Lucian black suit and tie, her braids pulled into a ponytail, an earpiece in her left ear as always. </p><p>“Good morning, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“‘Morning, Natalie,” he said, offering her a smile as he rocked back on his heels.  “I have a task for you.” </p><p>Natalie’s eyes lit up.  “Of course.”  She whipped out a tablet and stylus, poised to take notes.</p><p>Noct gestured to the room.  “I want all of this cleared out.  This stuff—” he pointed at the proliferation of decorative end tables “—especially.  When Ignis is awake, he can decide if he wants any of it back.  I want everything straightforward and uncluttered—desk, seating—without the useless fluff.”  Natalie’s gaze tracked him as he moved throughout the room.  “And I want equipment Ignis can use—computers, printers, and scanners…”  Noct touched the smooth surface of a filing cabinet behind the desk.  “Labels he can read.  I don’t know what he might’ve had in Lestallum.”</p><p>“I’ll find out, Your Majesty,” Natalie said, her stylus gliding over her tablet.</p><p>“The whole administrative complex will need to be outfitted, accordingly.  Communication needs to be seamless.”  Nothing less would be acceptable to Ignis, Noct smiling at the thought.</p><p>“I’ll get right on it.”</p><p>“Thanks, Natalie.”</p><p>True to her word, she had workers in the office within the hour, carefully wrapping the antiques and excess furniture, moving things to storage.</p><p>Gladio poked his head in the doorway after arriving at Noct’s office.  “Redecorating?”</p><p>“You could say that.”  Noct finished typing up an email and sent it off.</p><p>“Breakfast?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>After breakfast, Gladio remained with him for his first appointment of the day.  The throne room was frosty cold, still exposed to open air with a bit of snow piled up in the rubble.</p><p>“All these stairs,” Noct muttered, eyeing them all the way up to the throne, as if seeing everything for the first time.  “Even if my dad and his council had an elevator, anyone coming for an audience had to climb them.”  He glanced at Gladio.  “Not like everyone came through the Night with all their limbs, I’m guessing.  Even before then…”</p><p>Gladio nodded, looking back at him with a quiet pride in his eyes.</p><p><em>I know.  Finally, right?</em>  “We need to look at the whole building.”</p><p>The group of civil engineers and architects gathered in the room hastily scribbled notes to themselves.</p><p>“I believe parts of the Citadel were built before Insomnia put modernized accessibility codes in place, Your Majesty,” one of the engineers said.  “Things were grandfathered in.”</p><p>Noct offered the man a thin smile.  “Time to un-grandfather it, then.  This room’s not a priority; focus on the meeting halls, council chambers, the office wings, and public areas.  All the spaces we need to run the government.”  He slipped his hands into his pockets.  “No point fixing something if we don’t do it right.”</p><p>The man bowed.  “Yes, Your Majesty.”</p>
<hr/><p>February arrived.  Noct spent his nights in the vault, ignoring the concerned looks and whispers, the conversations that abruptly stopped when he entered rooms—should someone talk to him?  Should they bring in someone for him to talk <em>to</em>?  But no one was going to argue with the king, particularly when he was getting more sleep than he had been, and all he would’ve done was point to Ignis’s temperature, which had ticked up another tenth of a degree.  Noct purposely didn’t do the math, because at this rate, the time it would take to get to the low end of normal was dismal.  But it was something, it was progress, and he clung to the fact that both Gladio and Prompto had woken suddenly.  There was no reason to think things would be different for Ignis.</p><p>Staying busy wasn’t hard with Insomnia full of people and Duscae under a foot of snow.  Food production was slow in the greenhouses in Lucis, but Tenebrae was harvesting its first crops of fast-growing greens and radishes and shipping out what wouldn’t spoil in transport.  Aquaculture in Accordo was making tremendous headway—they were farming seaweed, cultivating algae, and the fish hatcheries transported from tanks in Lestallum were stable.  In the coming months, they’d be seeding the waters surrounding the islands, well on their way to having shrimp to export by summer and fish and other seafood in the coming years.</p><p>The wedding talk and rumors hadn’t stopped, but Noct ignored it.  He turned down enough interviews that people no longer asked him about it directly.  Beyond that, it was simply a matter of steering clear of the internet, which was easy enough given all the various tasks he allowed to consume him.</p><p>When he wasn’t in meetings, reviewing reports, and running Insomnia, he was in Ignis’s office, testing out the equipment Natalie had brought in.  He spent his evenings carefully scanning one page at a time from Ignis’s recipe book, checking the digitized copy for errors and listening to the computerized readback.  Once he was satisfied, he used software to translate each recipe into tactile script, checked it, and then printed it with the embosser.  He was slowly assembling a binder, each page with a column of physical script and a column of ink text, and maybe it was superfluous—maybe Ignis already had digital copies of his recipes, but no one could tell him if so, or where they might be stored.  Ignis’s phone was a logical place, but it was dead and he wouldn’t have gone through it, regardless, without permission.  Besides, Noct liked spending time with Ignis’s recipe book and the pages filled with his familiar handwriting, with the quiet tapping of the embosser in the background as he familiarized himself with the equipment Ignis would one day use.</p><p>Prompto and Gladio hung out with him, sometimes chatting aimlessly, other times just <em>being</em>.  They were worried about him, Noct knew, hovering a bit more than usual, yet trying to make it seem nonchalant.</p><p>There was a very worn page in Ignis’s notebook devoted to the Tenebraen tarts.  The recipe had been marked up, altered—ingredients scratched out and others added in the margins—several times.  The scanner couldn’t read it properly, and Noct couldn’t either, with a lump in his throat and liquid in his eyes.  As if he needed another reminder of Ignis’s devotion, of his tireless pursuit of perfection for Noct’s sake, over even the tiniest frivolity.  He saved the file—half image, half digitized and edited text—and closed it for now.  This was one he’d need Ignis to decipher.</p><p>“So, Noct…”  Prompto was on the couch, idly looking through pictures on his camera—or pretending to.  “For tomorrow, the kids were thinking…just, you know, maybe—”</p><p>Because <em>tomorrow</em>…  All of Noct’s carefully crafted <em>normalcy</em> crashed down around him, every effort to hold himself together crumbling through his fingers like so much sand.  He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, a useless attempt to staunch the flow of tears.  “I’m sorry, Prompto.  I can’t.”  He inhaled hard, just managing to swallow.  “I get it, but I just…can’t.”</p><p>“Hey…sure, buddy,” Prompto said, his voice gentle and light, understanding without Noct having to say more.  “No sweat.”</p><p>Noct got up before he lost it completely, drying his face with a handkerchief.  “Gladio.  Have Ms. Michela cancel my appointments tomorrow, would you?”</p><p>“Yeah.  ‘Course.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>It was late, so no one would’ve been surprised to see him heading for the vault—his usual routine, these days.  Still, he avoided people in the halls as much as he could.</p><p>Inside, in the dim light and stillness, Noct took off the crown.  He sank down onto the cot at Ignis’s side, pressed his face into his pillow, and sobbed.</p><p>-x-</p><p>When dawn came, Noct’s face was tight and raw from his tears.  He lay on his side, facing Ignis’s motionless form, aching with fresh heartbreak.  February 7<sup>th</sup>.  He might not make it out of bed at all today, and no one would blame him.</p><p>Noct scooted over, reaching, taking Ignis’s hand in both of his.</p><p>“Happy Birthday, Specs,” he whispered, as tears rolled across the bridge of his nose and splashed onto his pillow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Part III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Everything </em>hurt.  One moment, Ignis was weightless, falling, feeling <em>nothing</em>—the next, he was slammed into awareness, his entire body screaming in agony.  He gasped except he couldn’t <em>breathe</em>; something heavy was on his chest, holding him down, preventing him from drawing more than a mouthful of air.  His limbs felt leaden, enormously weighty, and prickled with cold.  <em>Was he underwater?</em>  Drowning?  Yet try as he might, he couldn’t claw his way to the surface, his flailing arms pinned to his sides by something or someone.</p><p>There were voices in the darkness around him—so many voices, shouting and overlapping, indistinct.  People?  Or daemons?  Perhaps <em>that’s</em> what it was—he was being eaten alive, consumed by the Scourge, perhaps that’s why it felt like his chest was on fire, his heart being torn out through his ribcage.</p><p>“Specs!”</p><p><em>Noct?!</em>  Ignis wasn’t sure if he heard or only imagined the voice, but he struggled, surging with all of his might towards it—</p><p>There was more yelling, hands pushing him down, fingers digging into his arms—</p><p>—And a grunt.  “<em>Damnit</em>, Iggy.”</p><p>
  <em>Gladio?</em>
</p><p>“<em>Specs</em>—”  Hands brushed insistently across his face, Noct’s voice closer now.  He could feel trembling breath against his skin.  “It’s OK.  You’re fine.  You’re gonna be fine—”</p><p>“<em>Can’t</em>…<em>breathe</em>…”  Did he get any words out at all?  His throat and his lips were so dry.  <em>Something</em> “…<em>on my chest</em>—”</p><p>“It’s your injuries,” Noct whispered at his ear, cheek touching his.  “It’s OK.  The doctors are here.”</p><p>The shouts refined into words, though Ignis only caught snatches—<em>pleural effusion</em>, <em>acute pulmonary edema—</em>  “Get him on oxygen, <em>now.</em>”</p><p>The side of Ignis’s face was wet when Noct drew back.</p><p>“Noct—”</p><p>Something soft and plastic was fitted over his nose and mouth, cool air flowing against his lips.  It had a sterile, medicinal taste, yet he still gasped, unable to inhale more than a tablespoon at a time, it felt like.</p><p>“It’s OK,” Noct said again, not quite as close but still nearby.  Shaking hands carded through his hair. </p><p>“Your Majesty, we’re going to have to sedate him,” one of the voices said.</p><p><em>No, don’t</em>—  Ignis tried to protest, but all that came out was a half-moan.</p><p>“Yeah, do it,” Noct said.</p><p>Gloved hands moved over his left arm; he felt a swab of something cold.</p><p>“It’s OK, Specs,” Noct said.  “I’m here.  I’m right here with you.”</p><p>There was a pinch, pressure, and then Ignis suddenly felt calmer.  Melting, drifting, the fact that he couldn’t breathe didn’t matter, somehow.  Only one thing mattered, and Ignis tried to turn his face, searching.</p><p><em>Noct.</em>  “You’re…alive?”</p><p>Breath stirred his hair—a thick, laden sigh.  “Yeah,” Noct whispered.  “Because of you.”  Lips pressed to his brow and there was more wetness, falling into his hair.  “You are too.”</p><p><em>Alive</em>…?  Ignis didn’t spend much time pondering the thought.  They were strapping him down, lifting him, moving him elsewhere.  The darkness abruptly shifted to gray.  He closed his eyes and slept.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The next time Ignis woke, he was decidedly uncomfortable, though not in much pain, at least.  It still felt like there was an elephant perched on his chest—and he was uncertain how that could be with his upper body elevated, but he could breathe more readily than before.  There was a plastic cannula in his nose, the soft hiss of cool, dry air in his nostrils.  He shifted, feeling out his limbs, and there was something weighing down his legs.  Some<em>one</em> maybe—they moved when he did, lifting off him.</p><p>“Oh…hey—”  Noct sounded tired, taking Ignis’s left hand in both of his own.</p><p>He struggled to swallow, to work his dry tongue in his dry mouth.  “…where?”</p><p>“Infirmary.”  Noct sighed, shifted.  The mattress dipped as Noct rested his cheek against Ignis’s knuckles.  “They had to drain fluid from your chest.  You’ve been out for a few hours.  They’ve got you on a lot of drugs.”</p><p>That would explain the lack of pain.  “…why?” he tried to ask.</p><p>Noct huffed, his breath warm against Ignis’s wrist.  “Because you were impaled.  You remember, right?”</p><p>Oh yes, he remembered that quite clearly.  The throne, the Lucii, <em>Noct.</em>  Ignis tried to move his hand and Noct let him, cupping Noct’s bearded cheek against his palm.  And he smiled, feeling the scratchiness of Noct’s hair, the heat of his skin beneath.  “Worth it,” he murmured.</p><p>Noct snorted.</p><p>But even that much fatigued him.  Ignis’s eyes fluttered closed, his hand falling away from Noct’s face.  “…tired.”</p><p>Noct caught his hand, pressing a kiss to the center of his palm.  “Me too.  It’s OK, Specs,” he whispered, squeezing Ignis’s hand tightly.  “Go back to sleep.  I’ll be here.”</p><p>He wanted to tell Noct to go to bed properly, but his body didn’t obey him.  Ignis drifted off again.</p>
<hr/><p>The proceeding hours—or days—passed in a haze.  There was a seemingly endless cycling of medical personnel into and out of Ignis’s room, subjecting him to poking and prodding and various diagnostics.  All of this, he experienced through a fog of medication, until they finally acquiesced—at his insistence—to fewer painkillers.  The pain was an inconvenience, but he preferred being clear-headed to the alternative.</p><p>And so he stirred, aching but fully self-aware, when the door opened yet again.</p><p>“You’re up,” Gladio said, his steps approaching Ignis’s bedside.</p><p>“Some form of it, I suppose,” Ignis said, shifting against the raised hospital bed to work out a few of the kinks in his back.  He reached out with his left hand, mindful of the IV wires, until his arm tapped the edge of the tray.  His water cup was on top, as he expected, and his visor, but there was also something that hadn’t been there before.  Ignis closed his hand around the foreign object, feeling the shape of it, his thumb tracing two pronged…oh, two tapered <em>ears</em> and a tiny horn on the brow of the small figurine.  <em>Oh Noct…</em>  It was the Carbuncle totem, the one that had been at Noct’s bedside after the Marilith attack, watching over him, helping him heal.  The one Noct carried with him, ever since.  “Noct left this?”</p><p>“Must’ve.”  A chair scraped close, Gladio sitting down on his left.  “How do you feel?”</p><p>Ignis sipped from his cup, suppressing a wince.  “Like I’ve died and come back to life.  The hard way.”</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “‘Bout right.  Noct’s in a meeting, but I’m sure he’ll be by after.”</p><p>Ignis blinked, turning his head in Gladio’s direction.  “A meeting, did you say?  Our Noctis willingly going to <em>meetings</em>?”</p><p>Gladio laughed.  “Running them, even.  You should see it, Iggy.  The kid’s really stepped up and made things happen.”  His voice sobered.  “Though, I’d say at least some of it’s desperation.  Staying busy while waiting for you to wake up.”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips.  “…A familiar feeling, that.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>He pushed his shoulders against the mattress, another abortive attempt at a stretch.  “You’re no worse for wear, I take it?  And Prompto?”</p><p>“Yeah, we’re both good.  Neither of us took the <em>sword</em>, Iggy.”</p><p>“A choice I do <em>not</em> regret.”  He sipped again, allowing the thought to swirl sweetly through his mind, enjoying it like a fine wine or a delicate dessert.  “Noct, alive and well.”  He smiled.</p><p>“Right?”  Gladio exhaled, sounding relieved.  “And he’ll be better, now that you’re back.”</p><p>“Back.”  Ignis’s brow furrowed.  “You make it sound like I was out for some time.  Were my injuries that terrible?”</p><p>Gladio made a quiet, strangled noise.  “Uh, nobody…told you, yet?”</p><p>Ignis lowered his cup.  “Told me what?”</p><p>Gladio drew a long breath.  “Iggy, it’s March.”</p><p>He couldn’t have heard that right.  “Gladio, I’m afraid I—”</p><p>“<em>March</em>, Iggy.  Of seven-sixty-<em>seven</em>.  You’ve been out six months.”</p><p>Ignis went cold.  “Six <em>months</em>…”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Gladio plucked the cup from his hand before he dropped it.</p><p>His heartrate sped up a tick, though he labored to keep his breathing even.  Ignis gingerly touched his chest, the bandages beneath his hospital gown.  “That doesn’t…  That doesn’t seem medically possible.”</p><p>“It’s not, as far as I know.  We were…in the Crystal or something.  Me for a month, Prom for two, you for six.”</p><p>That much—being in the Crystal—he remembered.  The fading blue…Noct, then Gladio, then Prompto being torn away from him.  “…I see.”</p><p>“Yeah.  Sorry to be the one to—”</p><p>“No, I appreciate you telling me.”  He lowered his hand back to his side.  “Seems I’ll have a few things to catch up on.”</p><p>“So I…”  There was a rustle of fabric.  “I brought you some clothes, if you want.  Docs say you’re allowed to be up and about, assuming you feel good enough.  I can give you a hand.”</p><p>“Yes.”  An anxious pressure stirred in his chest.  “I would like that.  Though—” Ignis lifted his arm, indicating the tubing.</p><p>“Right.  Lemme get the nurse.”</p><p>…Being dressed, upright, and wire-free was a small victory.  The sweatpants, T-shirt, and zip-up sweatshirt were an immense improvement over his thin hospital gown and worth the trouble, even if that limited bit of activity served to exhaust him.  Gladio had to leave to attend some matter and Ignis sat in an armchair by the window, pressing his palm to the glass and feeling the warmth of the sunlight he could not see.  He didn’t have six months’ worth of beard growth, unless someone had shaved him; he had a week’s stubble at most, though his hair was assuredly a mess.  Ignis adjusted his visor, pushing its bridge farther up his nose.  It didn’t seem possible that he could have lost that much time in the blink of an eye, and yet—</p><p>There was a rapid knock, the door bursting open before he could reply.  “You’re up!”  Noct sounded breathless.</p><p>He closed the door and came over, Ignis starting the rather painful process of getting out of the chair—</p><p>“No, sit.  <em>Sit.</em>”  Hands on his arms gingerly guided him back to the chair.  “Don’t push yourself.”</p><p>“So <em>you</em> say,” Ignis said.  “But the sooner I am up, the better, as it seems I’ve been sleeping six months already.  Kindly lend me your arm.”</p><p>Noct did as he asked, letting Ignis grab his arm and helping him stand up.  “You heard, huh?”</p><p>“I…I heard…” he said, distracted by the feel of the fabric under his palm—a fine-spun wool, soft against his skin.  With Noct holding his waist to steady him, Ignis brought his hands to Noct’s shoulders, lightly brushing over the jacket.  “This isn’t the suit you wore before.”</p><p>“Mm.  I’ve got a closet of ‘em now,” Noct said, his voice warm.</p><p>Ignis continued, head tilted down, wishing he could see what was under his fingers.  He drew his hands inward, fingertips whispering over the starched, stiff collar of Noct’s dress shirt, and his thumb bumped—  “Noct, are you wearing a <em>tie</em>?”</p><p>Noct chuckled.  “Yeah.”</p><p>“Not your schoolboy four-in-hand knot either,” Ignis said, truly astonished as he let his thumb trace over the patterned silk at Noct’s throat.</p><p>“Half-Windsor.  It’s really sloppy.  I was…distracted this morning.”</p><p>“I’m impressed,” Ignis said, smiling as he took his hands away.  “Noct, you’ve—”</p><p>Noct caught his left hand.  “One more thing,” he whispered.</p><p>Ignis fell quiet, allowing Noct to guide his hand upward.  His fingers touched the softness of Noct’s hair…then there was something hard and metallic, warming beneath his fingertips.  He traced the curves of it, rising to thin points, and Ignis’s chest pulsed with a thick breath, trapped painfully in his injured lungs.  His eyes filled with tears and the six months he’d lost suddenly didn’t <em>matter</em>—</p><p><em>Because his king was alive</em>.</p><p>His chin trembled as he tried to hold back the smile and the tears and failed on both accounts.  “<em>Noct</em>,” he whispered, the breath shuddering out of him, his hand shaking as he touched the crown in Noct’s hair.</p><p>Noct held his hand there, shifting closer to him.  “Are you crying?”</p><p>“Certainly not.”  Ignis huffed, laughing through his tears.  “I—”  He slipped his hand down, cradling the side of Noct’s face.  “Understand you are my king whether you wear the crown or not.”  He swallowed.  “But I had wanted…<em>hoped</em>…”  <em>Hoped you’d live to have the choice</em>.</p><p>Noct inhaled a breath that wavered, moving in until there was no space left between them, his hand curling into the fabric of Ignis’s T-shirt.  “<em>Specs</em>—”</p><p>Tears and all, Ignis lowered his head toward Noct’s upturned face, trailing his thumb down to the corner of his king’s lips.  “May I?”</p><p>An exasperated sound was Noct’s answer, a tug on Ignis’s T-shirt.  Ignis smiled and kissed his king.  Just a tentative press of lips at first, gauging…and when he felt Noct melt against him, he sank down fully, <em>firmly</em>, tilting Noct’s head back, just like he’d wanted to do for years.</p><p>Noct closed his arms around him gently—as if to be mindful of his injuries—but his mouth was another matter entirely, surging upward, kissing him back with a fierceness that Ignis remembered from a precious and heartbroken night in Gralea, a decade ago, the memory all the sweeter now.</p><p><em>Oh Noct.</em>  Ignis pulled him in as close as he dared.</p><p>He would’ve made an exhaustive study of kissing Noctis, if he could have.  But unfortunately, this pesky necessity called <em>breathing</em> was becoming painful, and he brought both hands to Noct’s face, softening the kiss and gently pulling away.  Noct breathed out against his lips and Ignis expected a protest to follow, except that a chime sounded—quiet, but nonetheless insistent, from the vicinity of Noct’s jacket.</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.”  Noct let go of him, patting his pocket.  “Shit, I’ve got a meeting.”</p><p>Ignis eased himself back down to the chair, smiling and reveling in the taste of Noctis on his lips.  “A meeting.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “Yeah, I do that now.”</p><p>Ignis said nothing, inwardly so very proud.  And if his years of nagging Noct about matters of discipline had indeed had some positive effect, all the better. </p><p>“So, uhm…”  Noct stayed close, hand covering his on the arm of the chair, thumb idly rubbing his knuckles.  Noct apparently needed to touch him, which Ignis did not mind at all.  “I asked my staff—<em>our</em> staff—to pull some reports together for you.  Not that I’m expecting you to work immediately!  Just, you know, if you’re bored while you’re stuck down here.”</p><p>“You guessed right,” Ignis said, turning his hand to catch Noct’s fingers.  “I should like to get started right away.”</p><p>Noct made a sound he usually made when he was nodding.  “Prom’ll come by later.  Oh, and I’ll include dossiers for the staff.  I made it clear to everyone when they were hired that it was all temporary, pending your approval.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “You make it sound as though I’m the Queen of Hearts.  ‘Off with their heads’ and so forth.”  He shook his head. </p><p>Noct hummed with amusement.  “I expect my chamberlain to run a tight ship.”</p><p>“Well, that indeed is a given.”  Ignis smiled.  “<em>Majesty.</em>”  Oh yes, he quite enjoyed the way that sounded from his lips.</p><p>The grip on Ignis’s hand tightened, Noct’s knee bumping his.  A warm hand cradled his cheek and that was all the warning before their noses brushed and Noct was kissing him.  –<em>Firm</em> kisses, glorious and heady, and Ignis cupped the back of Noct’s neck, burying his fingers in Noct’s hair.</p><p>Noct made a tantalizing sound, deep in his throat, and pulled away.  “OK, I <em>really</em> have to go.”  One more peck, chaste, and he rested their foreheads together.  “I love you,” he whispered, exhaling a trembling breath against Ignis’s lips.</p><p>There was a lot packed into those three beautiful words.  Ignis held Noct to him, his heart aching with joy.  “I love <em>you</em>, Noct.”  He felt the weight of Noct’s gaze as they parted, Noct’s hand slow to leave his.</p><p>Then, with an audible breath, Noct moved away, the door opening and closing.</p><p>Ignis settled back and closed his eyes, smiling to himself.</p><p>-x-</p><p>After lunch, which consisted of a broth-heavy soup and other liquid-based foods, the nurse checked his bandages.</p><p>“Everything’s looking good, Master Ignis,” he said.  “The doctor said we can move you to a chest brace.  It’ll provide support and help with the pain during your breathing exercises.”</p><p>Ignis nodded.  “Thank you.” </p><p>The nurse guided his hand, showing him the various straps and buckles of the device.  It was bulky under his T-shirt, but wouldn’t likely be noticeable under his kingsglaive jacket.  Though, speaking of, his kingsglaive uniform probably had large tears in the front and back that he’d have to attend to.</p><p>A physical therapist came by to walk him through the breathing exercises—which did cause a fair amount of discomfort.  Ignis waved off the offered painkillers, opting for a short nap instead, and woke to a knock at the door.</p><p>“Come in,” he said, shifting upright and managing only a slight wince at the pain.</p><p>The door opened.  “Iggy!”  It was Prompto, his voice immediately followed by a chorus of others and the clamor of small feet. </p><p>“Master Iggy!”</p><p>“Hey, hey—<em>easy</em>,” Prompto said.  There was a brief scuffle.  “Don’t just jump on him; he’s injured.”</p><p>“Your caution is appreciated, Prompto,” Ignis said and smiled.  “Hello, children.”</p><p>The three of them pressed close to the edge of his bed.  “You’re awake!”  —That was Zorian, first in line on his left.</p><p>“You slept <em>so</em> long,” Benin said, leaning on the mattress near his knees.  “Did you dream a lot?”</p><p>“Your temperature was low,” Espie said.  “Like, <em>really</em> low.  For a long time.”</p><p>“Yes, and I’m quite happy to be back with all of you,” Ignis said to them.</p><p>“It’s <em>so</em> good to see you awake,” Prompto said, coming around the left side of the bed.  “How’s the, uhm…?”</p><p>“Chest wound?” Ignis asked, lifting a brow.</p><p>“Yeah.  That.”</p><p>“Sealed up, so I’m led to believe.  No lingering vital organ damage and the pain is tolerable.  So, just about good on all counts, I’d say.”</p><p>“Thank <em>God</em>.”  Prompto set something down on his tray that sounded like papers.  “Dodged a bullet there, Iggy.  If you hadn’t…” he trailed off.  “I mean, Noct would’ve…”</p><p>Noct living while he died was more than a fair trade in Ignis’s mind, but it was a thought he kept to himself.  Prompto might not have appreciated it.  “I’m glad things worked out for the better,” he said instead.  Ignis reached out, feeling for the tray.  His fingertips brushed the edge of a stack of folders.  “These are the reports?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Prompto said.  “Stuff about Insomnia, to start.  They’re still working on the ones for the rest of Lucis and everywhere else.”</p><p>Ignis picked up the first folder and found the label, running his fingers over the pattern of raised dots; it read ‘Insomnia food supply.’  Inside were several pages of embossed text and tables.  “An awful lot of work, printing all this.”</p><p>“Noct doesn’t like the screen readers.  We have ‘em, but he says they pronounce things funny.” </p><p>“Well, he’s not <em>wrong</em>, necessarily, but why would Noct—”</p><p>“Why?  Well, <em>duh</em>, Iggy, ‘cause he’s been trying to get everything set up for you.  You should see your office.  It’s all teched out with stuff from Lestallum, plus what they’ve been able to scrounge up around here.”</p><p>His lips parted around a slow breath.  He was…touched that Noct would’ve gone to such lengths to prepare things for him.  Not that he necessarily expected to live through the events in the throne room, but he certainly would have anticipated making such arrangements himself.  Least of all at the king’s personal time and expense.  “I shall have to thank him.”</p><p>Prompto snorted with amusement.  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.  He practically <em>floated</em> into the meeting after seeing you.  I’m not kidding.”</p><p>“Was he late?” Ignis asked.</p><p>“Yup!”</p><p>He sighed.</p><p>“So you’re a zombie too, right?” Zorian asked, close to Ignis’s left side.</p><p>Ignis arched a brow, tilting his face in the boy’s direction.  “I rather think I don’t resemble a mindless, undead daemon with an appetite for gray matter, but I understand your curiosity in asking the question.”</p><p>“He was in <em>stasis</em>,” Espie said.  “Like dad.”</p><p>“My dad was in stasis for two months,” Benin said, “but how come it took six months for you?  Is it ‘cause you got stabbed through the heart?”</p><p>“It was a bit to the right of that, fortunately,” Ignis said.</p><p>“Alright, alright.”  Prompto rounded up the kids.  “Let’s let Iggy rest, OK?”</p><p>“<em>OK</em>.  Bye, Master Iggy!”</p><p>“Good day to you, children.”</p><p>Prompto touched his shoulder—a fond little tap, and Ignis smiled.  The whole noisy lot went out the door and into the hall, Ignis listening to their footsteps and chatter receding.</p><p>When it was quiet once more, he settled in and started to read.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Ignis studied the reports until dinner, taking a few breaks for his breathing exercises and for slow circuits of the room to stretch his legs and rebuild his stamina.  He winded more quickly than he would’ve liked and ended up napping again after he ate.  He woke to find someone using the edge of his mattress for a pillow, right at his knees—a someone who didn’t stir this time when he moved.</p><p>Ignis reached down, his hand finding the back of his sleeping companion, warmth bleeding through a cotton dress shirt.  His fingers traced slender shoulders—a familiar breadth, and Noct didn’t stir, so Ignis took a moment to appreciate the crown again and to glide his fingers through Noct’s hair.  He vividly remembered their last night camping together, how Noct had crawled into his arms, silently demanding to be held and how he’d lain awake because the world as he knew it was coming to an end.  Six months and the decade they’d lost before was nothing compared to this.  <em>All</em> he’d wanted was for Noct to live.  That he too had survived…  Ignis drew a slow breath, nigh overwhelmed.  Even supposing Providence heard his prayers, this was more than he ever would have asked for.</p><p>Noct yawned, shifting, though he didn’t actually move.  “Specs…” he murmured, half-awake, as he was wont to be.</p><p>Ignis sighed, letting his hand drift to Noct’s shoulder.  “Noctis, have you been spending nights here?”</p><p>Noct took too long to answer.  “…No?”</p><p><em>That won’t do at all</em>.  Ignis shook his head, prodding until Noct straightened up.  “To <em>bed</em> with you.  My king requires a proper rest.” </p><p>“Nn.”  Noct caught his hand, pressing it between his own.</p><p>Ignis’s heart did a little flutter in his chest.  He softened his voice.  “I’ll still be here in the morning.  I promise you that.”</p><p>Noct blew out a breath.  “Alright.”  He got to his feet, though his footsteps approached, rather than receded.  “Have a good sleep, Specs,” he whispered, leaning in.  His lips brushed the corner of Ignis’s mouth, ever so tenderly.</p><p>The sweetness of the gesture melted him.  Ignis reached up, catching Noctis before he could pull away and angling his head to find Noct’s lips with his own.  Goodness, he was becoming impulsive, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing Noctis, and Noct—by the drowsy, pleasured sound he made, sinking against him—seemed quite happy to oblige.</p><p>Still, five blissful heartbeats or so was about as much as he could justify for a goodnight kiss.  Ignis drew back.  “Goodnight, Noct,” he whispered.</p><p>“Hmph.”  Noct lingered, their noses brushing.  “Not making me wanna leave, you know.”</p><p>Ignis drew his hand down the side of Noct’s face, letting his fingers drift lightly over Noct’s cheekbone and beard.  “I’ve had a decade of missing you.  Forgive me if it bleeds through, now and again.”  He felt Noct smile and wished he could see it.</p><p>“‘Night,” Noct whispered, catching and kissing his fingers, and then he finally left, the door closing with a soft click behind him.</p><p>Ignis let out a slow breath, pressing back into the pillows.  He fell asleep with the taste of Noctis on his lips.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The following morning, Noct returned at a surprisingly early hour, just as Ignis was sitting down to breakfast in the armchair by the window.</p><p>“I brought you more stuff, Specs,” he said, Ignis hearing what sounded like another stack of folders landing on the table between the armchair and the bed.</p><p>“Ah, thank you,” Ignis said, sipping from his cup of weak but nonetheless welcomed coffee.</p><p>Noct dragged a chair over, sitting down close enough that their knees touched.  “How’s the coffee?”</p><p>Ignis pursed his lips.  “It’s an improvement over what we had during the Night, which ought to say something about what we made do with, given that these beans are over a decade old and definitely taste their age.”</p><p>Noct made an amused sound.  “Accordo’s gonna start replanting, but they tell me it’ll be three to four years before the coffee cherries will be ready to harvest.  So no Ebony for a while yet.  Sorry, Iggy.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “Don’t tell me you asked solely on my account.”</p><p>Noct shifted.  “I mean, you’re not the <em>only</em> coffee-addict in the world.”</p><p>And while that was obviously true, there was also no need for the <em>king</em> to personally oversee such matters, especially when Noct wasn’t fond of coffee himself.  Ignis set his cup down, stretching out his hand in a silent request…</p><p>Warm fingers closed around his.</p><p>Ignis squeezed.  “I’m touched, Noct.  Thank you.”  He brushed his thumb across Noct’s knuckles.  “Prompto told me about the equipment you had brought in and I…”  He paused, a sudden wave of emotion making it difficult to speak.</p><p>Noct gripped his hand tightly.  “Six months,” he whispered.  “I didn’t know what to <em>do</em>, Specs.  And you and the guys…”  He inhaled unsteadily.  “How’d you ever manage ten <em>years</em>?”</p><p>Ignis let out a slow breath.  “There was no alternative.  I will admit…”  He glanced down towards their clasped hands, picturing in his mind the way Noct’s fingers twined through his.  “…to staying as busy as possible, especially on the days when your absence was the hardest to bear.”</p><p>Noct said nothing.  Instead, he moved—the tray table was rotated away from Ignis’s lap and Noct perched on the arm of his chair.  Warm hands cradled his face on both sides.</p><p>Ignis lifted a brow.  “I ought to brush my teeth—”</p><p>“Nope.  Don’t care,” Noct said, and kissed him.</p><p>And, <em>oh</em>, it was sweet and insistent, Noct’s lips velvet soft against his own, his beard scratchy and rough.  It was enough for Ignis to forget himself immediately, bringing his hands up to hold Noct to him, the fingers of his left hand brushing the tines of the crown in Noct’s hair.  Noct tilted his head, his lips parting and Ignis eagerly obliged him, their tongues meeting in slow glides.  <em>Heavens.</em>  Ignis felt a pleasant rush of heat.  He stifled a groan, or tried to.  Noct was less restrained, making an almost wanton sound and kissing him fervently, hands buried in Ignis’s hair.  <em>Oh Noct</em>—  Ignis’s injuries notwithstanding, the infirmary was hardly an appropriate venue for <em>this</em> sort of kissing, where at any time someone might come in, yet he wasn’t persuaded to pull away, either—</p><p>Until a knock sounded at the door.</p><p>They sprung apart, Ignis jerking backward violently enough to cause a bright stab of pain in his chest.  He winced, breathing through it, a hot flush in his cheeks.</p><p>“Your Majesty?”  The call came from the hallway, somewhat muffled by the closed door, and Ignis could <em>not</em> have been more mortified.</p><p>His face burned.  “Have you had the <em>marshal</em> waiting on you this whole time?”</p><p>“Be right there, Cor!”  Noct cleared his throat, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved backwards.  “Said I’d only be a couple minutes.”</p><p>Ignis rubbed his brow.  “<em>Astrals</em>, Noct.”  Clearly, they needed to establish some sort of…boundaries.  He exhaled.</p><p>“So…I’ve got meetings all morning, but the doctors say you can leave today, so I was going to take the afternoon off and help you get settled.”</p><p>Ignis sat back, attempting to regain some of his composure, if only his racing heart would comply.  “It hardly warrants upsetting your schedule.  I’m sure I can handle it.”</p><p>“And <em>I’m</em> pretty sure even my chamberlain would agree I’m entitled to take time off now and then.”</p><p>He couldn’t very well argue with that, could he?</p><p>“See you after lunch, Specs.”  Noct’s footsteps retreated towards the door.</p><p>“Majesty,” Ignis murmured in acknowledgement, in acquiescence.</p><p>The door opened.  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Noct said.</p><p>Cor just sighed.  “Master Ignis, it’s good to have you back with us.”</p><p>Ignis inclined his head, hoping his face wasn’t nearly as red as he feared it was.  “Marshal.”</p><p>They left him alone and Ignis used one of the folders Noct had brought to fan his face.  <em>Six.</em>  To have it be the marshal of all people.  Ignis couldn’t help but feel like a child again, getting scolded for having let the young prince do this or that, as though being two years older granted him all the wisdom and foresight of an adult.  But he’d always been indulgent with Noctis.  Noct’s desires overlapping with his longings was already proving to be a volatile combination—intoxicatingly, magnificently volatile.  <em>My word</em>.  Ignis kept fanning.  He’d never given himself leave to imagine something like this, having conveniently boxed and locked his feelings away.  Even in Gralea, the hope had been too fragile and brief, so quickly dashed to pieces.  <em>This</em> was beyond anything he’d ever dreamed—to have a life with Noctis to look forward to.</p><p>But really, he’d best get on with it.  His breakfast was cooling and those reports weren’t going to read themselves.  He hardly had the time to sit here fantasizing about his king like a schoolboy.</p><p>Shaking his head at himself, Ignis returned to his breakfast.  As soon as he was finished eating—and had washed up and brushed his teeth—he settled back in the armchair with the reports.  There were three thick folders of material, labeled <em>Lucis</em>, <em>Accordo</em>, and <em>Western Continent</em>.  He decided to start with the report on Lucis and work his way outward.</p><p>The longest of the three, it took Ignis a fair part of the morning to get through the impacts of the meteorshards’ unexpected cooling, the changing meteorological landscape, and the dispersion of refugees from Lestallum to the towns and outposts throughout the continent.  It seemed that EXINERIS had recently completed a conversion of Lestallum’s power plant to conventional fuel, while there were several projects in planning stages to source power from sustainable means, though nothing could move forward until the climate settled out and environmental assessments could be done.  Little sense pursuing a hydrological plant at Callatein’s Plunge if the falls would be frozen for a decent portion of the year.  Colder temperatures had impacted food production in Lestallum, such that rationing continued to be a way of life, with most of the dry and canned goods now being sourced from Insomnia’s stockpiles—supplies that weren’t by any means infinite.  Clearly there was much work to be done. </p><p>He wondered as he read—had there been any survey of Galahd?  There hadn’t been access during the Night and only a few of the refugees in Lestallum had hailed from there, but its remote location may have insulated it from the cooling the rest of Lucis had experienced.  He’d heard it described as a lush and beautiful land, rich in water and other natural resources—which had, of course, made it a target for Imperial conquest once the Wall had been pulled back to Insomnia.  Something to check on, in any case.  Ignis made a mental note to ask, as well as to inquire about whether or not his phone—with all of his recorded notes—had survived.  It had been in the pocket of his jacket, though its loss—if that was indeed the case—was truly a small casualty in the face of larger gains.</p><p>Ignis set the Lucis report aside and started in on Accordo’s.  There were certainly less dire projections here.  It seemed that the island nation, despite still coping with damages from Leviathan’s Rite, was progressing well towards being self-sustaining again, no doubt in large part due to the protectionist policies of the First Secretary and her cabinet.  He’d had the opportunity to sit down with Camelia Claustra on multiple occasions during the Night, to debate the merits of various forms of governance and the policies thereof.  Ignis found her pragmatic and exceptionally competent, and despite their differing views on certain topics—such as the Lucian monarchy—he respected her a great deal.  Her actions since the Dawn did not surprise him, and given that a stable and high-functioning Accordo was in the best interest of all of Eos, he couldn’t say he disagreed with anything she had done.</p><p>So, onto the Western Continent.  Ignis opened the folder and ran his fingers over the table of contents.  The report was structured much like the others, with a brief ‘present status’ summary up front, followed by more detailed information under headings such as <em>lands surveyed</em>, <em>food supply</em>, <em>utilities status</em>, <em>population</em>, <em>transportation</em>, and <em>governance</em>.  Without further ado, Ignis turned the page to the summary and began to read.</p><p>
  <em>The Western Continent is quickly becoming the new agricultural center of Eos.  Due to the thaw resulting from the dissolution of the Glacian’s corpse, the deserts of Vogliupe have become fertile fields.  While it is unknown whether or not the effect is temporary, immediate attention has been given to cultivating farmland, particularly for crops with short-term yields as well as livestock.  All activities are being directed by the newly formed Tenebraen state, which informally incorporates the whole of the continent and has its temporary headquarters in Pagla in the Piztala region within the former borders of Tenebrae.  To date, the Tenebraen state has not announced a formal government.  It is currently run by a cooperative of former Imperials, Tenebraen officials, and Lucian hunters, notably former Imperial officers Aranea Highwind, Biggs Callux, and Wedge Kincaid, and the Oracle of Eos, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, who is widely considered to be the Tenebraen head of state despite the lack of any formal proclamation—</em>
</p><p>Ignis’s fingers stilled.  He lifted his hand and carefully retraced the line with his index finger, the dots blooming under his touch to form letters and words—</p><p>
  <em>Oracle of Eos, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret</em>
</p><p>He had not misread it.  It was, indeed, a non-posthumous reference to the Oracle.  Something in his chest became very cold and very still.  Ignis realized he was holding his breath, but that wasn’t the whole of it.  He reached to the side of his armchair and calmly depressed the attached call button.</p><p>A moment later, the door opened.  “Yes, Master Ignis?” the nurse asked.</p><p>“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said.  “It’s not an emergency, but if you have a moment…?”</p><p>“Yes, of course.”  The man came farther into the room.</p><p>“I’ve just read a bit of extraordinary news and I hoped you’d be able to confirm it for me.”  Ignis sat back in his chair.  “Am I to understand that the Oracle, Lady Lunafreya, is <em>alive</em>?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, very much so!” the nurse said, his voice brightening. </p><p>“Truly…” Ignis whispered, his breath failing him.</p><p>“I’ve been here from the beginning, so I was able to assist the doctor who examined Her Highness when she suddenly appeared.  It was some kind of miracle—right when the Dawn came.  We were worried she was injured, since her dress was torn and bloody, but she was perfectly fine—perfectly whole and normal.  She looks <em>exactly</em> like her pictures—hasn’t aged a day since her last appearance in Altissia.  Her Highness was here for the first three months before Tenebrae got up and running.  She’s amazing if you haven’t met her.  I hadn’t ever seen her before—I only heard the stories and the radio broadcasts, but—”</p><p>As the man continued to gush, Ignis smiled politely and nodded as if he were listening.  And he was trying to.  It was incredible and wonderful news, after all.</p><p>And yet.  A hollow numbness consumed him, spreading outward from his core to envelope his limbs as he remembered how he’d last seen her in life—collapsed over Noctis’s body on Leviathan’s altar, giving her life to protect and heal her king.  It was seared into his mind—one of the final sights he’d seen before the ring.</p><p>Meanwhile, here <em>he</em> sat with Noct’s scent on his clothes and vivid memories of kisses shared just hours ago.</p><p><em>Oh dear</em>.  He’d been rather presumptuous, hadn’t he?  If Noct’s betrothed was alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once the nurse left, Ignis remained sitting in the armchair with the Western Continent report in his lap, allowing himself a few minutes to consider the situation objectively…as objectively as someone could hope to be when in love with one of the persons involved. </p><p>First, it wasn’t necessarily rational to assume that a betrothal that started as a condition of surrender to an enemy power, that was in fact part of a plot to disguise a hostile attack, had any binding qualities at all.  Moreover, both parties had subsequently died prior to exchanging any vows.  Such arrangements could, however, be reinstated now that Lady Lunafreya and Noctis were both very much alive.</p><p>Second, the way Noct kissed him yesterday and especially this morning certainly did not suggest he had such a relationship with Lady Lunafreya at present.  Even acknowledging that Ignis had first initiated and that Lady Lunafreya was half a world away in Tenebrae, Ignis couldn’t imagine Noctis leaving out such a crucial bit of information, or failing to stop him if there’d been reason to.</p><p>But there <em>was</em> reason to stop, wasn’t there?  Despite both of them being so caught up in the moment and in each other to realize...  Noct was <em>king</em>, with all of the responsibilities to nation and line that that entailed.  It wouldn’t do for them to have a relationship when Noct was destined to marry someone else, whether that person was Lady Lunafreya or not.  It should only end in heartbreak for one or both of them, if they pursued this.</p><p>Would it fall to him to put an end to things?  To gently suggest that they return to more familiar territory?  Ignis knew his feelings wouldn’t change, but he’d loved Noctis for a very long time.  It had never interfered with his duties before and it didn’t have to now.  As…crushing as the idea felt, he knew he could force his feelings back into the box from whence they’d come, lock them away, and go on living for his king as he always had. </p><p>But he feared it wouldn’t be the same for Noctis, so easily ruled by his emotions at times, to revert to the kind of relationship they’d had before.  Their friendship might not survive.  His position as Noct’s trusted advisor and chamberlain might not survive.  The thought of losing Noctis completely threatened to shred his heart in his chest.  But they’d have to discuss it—all of the things they’d been ignoring since Altissia, because none of it bore any relevance when Noct was prophesized to give his life for the world.  But now he’d lived, now he was <em>king</em>, and such matters could not simply be set aside.</p><p>If this was the price Ignis would pay in exchange for Noct’s life, so be it.  He’d been willing to give everything.</p><p>Ignis sat back in his chair, purposefully compartmentalizing his thoughts.  Later, at an appropriate time, they’d talk.  For now, he returned to the report on the Western Continent and continued to read.  And he ignored the ache in his chest.  It was just a remnant of the sword wound, after all.  In time, it would heal.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Ignis finished the report by lunchtime, which he ate without tasting much of it.  He listened to the doctor’s discharge instructions, asked clarifying questions, and committed it all to memory.  Two weeks of the chest brace and breathing exercises with regular check-ins, and no strenuous activities allowed.  Otherwise, he was free to do as he liked, though the more he rested, the faster he would heal. </p><p>Noct arrived just as the doctor was leaving.  “Hey,” he said, voice bright as he came into the room.</p><p>And Ignis was caught off guard by the sharp pang he felt in his chest, just from Noct’s greeting.  He swallowed.  “How was your morning?”</p><p>“It was <em>so</em> hard to concentrate.”</p><p>Ignis was sitting on the side of the bed; Noct sat down next to him.</p><p>“Ms. Michela pretty much threw me out of the office.  Told me to come back when I had my head straight.”  Noct had something with him; Ignis heard the crinkle of a paper bag.  “I brought some clothes for you.  Your fatigues.  It’s not far, but I thought you might not want to walk through the Citadel in sweats.”</p><p>A lump formed in Ignis’s throat.  “You thought right,” he said with effort, unprepared—especially now—for how it felt to have the whole of Noct’s attention focused on him…and unable to ignore the way his heart stirred in response.  “Thank you, Noct.”</p><p>“Sure!  If you need help, let me know.”  Noct handed him the bag, their fingers brushing as Ignis took it from him.</p><p>“I’ll just be a moment,” he said, getting up and making his way to the attached bathroom.  Ignis left the door cracked as he changed, slipping out of his sweatshirt and folding it.  Removing his T-shirt required a bit of contortion and caused some pain—it took a couple of tries and a few deep breaths to get it over his head.</p><p>“Specs?”</p><p>“I’m alright,” he said, wanting to toss the damn shirt on the floor but thinking better of it.  He’d only have to pick it up and that was likely to hurt even more.  Donning his usual button-up shirt was much easier to manage and the feeling of familiar clothes centered him.  Astrals knew what his hair looked like, though.</p><p>Ignis finished dressing, exchanging his underwear for a fresh pair and his sweatpants for trousers.  He buckled his belt and went back into the room in his slippers.  “I don’t suppose you brought shoes?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct took him by the elbow and guided him back to the bed.  “Have a seat.”</p><p>Ignis sat down on the edge of the mattress, his brow furrowing.  “Noct…?”</p><p>Noct moved away, there was a rustle of shifting fabric, and then a hand touched his ankle.</p><p>“<em>Noctis</em>.”  Ignis recoiled—the king on his knees?  “You should not be—”  He inhaled hard, gripping the sheets beneath him.  “This is not for the king to do.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “Whatever, Iggy.  We’re alone and I remember how much everything sucked the first few days.  Just let me.”  Without waiting for a reply, he plucked the slippers from Ignis’s feet and started peeling off his socks.</p><p>Heat burned up Ignis’s neck, his limbs frozen.  He’d done this for Noct plenty of times when they were children, happily kneeling before the young prince to help him don and tie his shoes.  When they were out and about, he had no qualms about dropping to his knees wherever they were to retie Noctis’s laces if they’d come undone.  But this was too much, Noct doing it for him.  His body locked up with a jumble of feelings.</p><p>It took very little time for Noct to outfit him with socks and guide his feet into his shoes, yet Ignis’s heart pounded in his chest the whole while.  When Noct was done, when he’d straightened up off his knees, Ignis dared a labored attempt to breathe.</p><p>“Is it really that big a deal?” Noct asked, leaning close, his hand covering one of Ignis’s fists.  “I’m the king,” he whispered, his breath on Ignis’s lips.  “Are you gonna tell me I can’t?”</p><p>Ignis knew he was teasing, but that really was the crux of it, wasn’t it?  “No,” he said, the word exhaled in quiet surrender, and Noct kissed him.</p><p>He shouldn’t have let it happen, but it was like the innocent touch of Noct’s lips drove the reason right out of him.  Ignis closed his eyes and savored the kiss, even as the ache in his chest deepened, his feelings bleeding out from the box where he’d attempted to lock them away.</p><p>Where was all of his careful self-discipline now?  Shattered and in pieces, and perhaps it had been this way longer than he’d thought.  Since Gralea, even, when Noct sat down across from him and demanded to talk about why he’d put on the ring.</p><p>
  <em>Because you’re everything to me.</em>
</p><p>That singular truth made him, unmade him, as real now as it had ever been.  His hand unfurled against the blankets, his searching fingers weaving through Noct’s.</p><p>Noct made a soft, contented sound, keeping hold of Ignis’s hand as he straightened up.  “Ready to go?”</p><p>“Yes,” Ignis said.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Ignis tried to picture the corridors in his mind, but he was a turn or so off coming out of the infirmary, Noct’s fingers lightly on his right elbow to guide him.  No matter.  There’d be time to relearn things.  Time for a lot of things, even as the thought landed on him with a sort of anxious dread, given the necessity of conversations ahead of them.</p><p>“We still haven’t reopened all of the towers,” Noct said, a bit of pressure on Ignis’s arm indicating a forthcoming turn to the left.  “Hasn’t been a priority.  So it’s just been the lower floors, up to the vault, and the northeast tower.”  They rounded the corner and Noct drew him to a stop, presumably before the elevator.  Ignis heard him push the button to summon the lift.  “We’re on the fortieth floor.  The rest of the crownsguard and Iris—she’s crownsguard now, too—are on the thirty-ninth.  Prompto’s got an apartment up with us, but he stays on the thirty-eighth floor with the kids, in the apartment we gave Aranea when she arrived.  It’s right across from—”</p><p>Noct cut himself off abruptly.</p><p>“Shit,” he whispered, his hand falling from Ignis’s elbow.</p><p>Ignis canted his face in Noct’s direction.</p><p>“Sorry.  I forgot you didn’t know,” Noct said.  “Luna.  She’s alive.”</p><p>Ignis drew a measured breath.  “Yes.  I gathered as much from the report on Tenebrae.”</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>.” </p><p>Ignis imagined him wincing. </p><p>“Sorry.  Didn’t…didn’t really mean for you to find out that way.”</p><p>He arched a brow.  “You handed me the reports.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I didn’t…”</p><p><em>Didn’t read them?</em>  Ignis sighed.</p><p>“Sorry, Specs,” Noct murmured.</p><p>It was difficult to ascertain what all he was apologizing for, but Ignis wasn’t about to ask in the hallway.  “It’s alright,” he said.  “I’ve been informed.  But if there are any other rather important developments I’ve yet to hear about?”</p><p>“Hm.”  The lift arrived, doors sliding open.  Noct’s hand alighted on his back, guiding him inside.  “Well the Crystal’s dead.”</p><p>“Not surprising,” Ignis said, turning around to face the doors.  He reached for the control panel, gliding his fingertips along the raised dots adjacent to the buttons until he found the one for 40 and pressed it.  “I recall, when we were in there, the way the realm was crumbling around us.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said.  “It hung on these past six months, just the smallest bit of light as it was…healing you.  But once you woke up, it went dark completely.”</p><p>Six months…yet what he’d experienced seemed like a matter of minutes.</p><p>“Everything came out of the Armiger.  I put a box in your room.”  Noct paused.  “Wasn’t much of yours in there besides cookware.”</p><p>Ignis felt Noct’s questioning gaze.  “Judging a man for his hobbies, Noct?”</p><p>“Nope,” Noct said.  “Meteorshards died.”</p><p>Ignis nodded.  “That was covered in the reports.  I was pleased to read about Jeanne’s success connecting Lucis to Insomnia’s power grid.”</p><p>“Yeah, she’s great, huh?  And the whole EXINERIS team.”  The lift slowed and chimed upon reaching the fortieth floor.  “Let’s see…  Accordo’s just thinking about opening up tourism.”  Noct’s hand again touched his back as they stepped out.  “Between us, I think First Secretary Claustra will wait until Lucis is fully thawed out to avoid an influx of visitors.”</p><p>“Sensible,” Ignis said, his shoes clicking on the marble floor beside Noct’s.</p><p>“And Vogliupe is a paradise, suddenly, with the Glacian’s corpse having melted.”</p><p>“Kind of Gentiana to leave a parting gift,” Ignis said.</p><p>Noct fell quiet.  They took a few more steps and he gently indicated a turn.</p><p>…And then Noct’s hand was curling into a fist, gripping the fabric of Ignis’s shirt.</p><p>“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.  “It’s been so hard, doing all of this without you.”</p><p>They both stopped walking.  Ignis felt the ache in his chest, his heart beating in the hollow behind his healed ribs.  “You seem to have done quite well for yourself, Majesty.”</p><p>Noct didn’t answer at first, his hand falling away from Ignis’s shirt.  “…I had a lot of help,” he said, at length.  “Here.”  He guided Ignis’s hand to a smooth panel on the wall.</p><p>The raised dots beneath his fingertips read <em>4002</em>. </p><p>“My apartment’s just next door—4001.  Gladio’s in ’03 across the hall.”  Noct released him, Ignis hearing a soft series of beeps.  “Passcode’s your birthday.  You can change it to whatever you want.  Crownsguard has an emergency override through the security system, like you’re used to.”  The door clicked open.  “I’ll show you around.”</p><p>The apartment was large, with several rooms and a full kitchen—far more palatial than anything he’d had before, certainly during the Night but also compared to the tiny Insomnian apartment he left behind when they set out.  It was an almost dizzying amount of space as Noct took him through it, more than he needed, though Ignis supposed it would be a simple matter to close doors to rooms he would not use.  Noct guided him throughout, showing him the locations of intercom panels, furniture, and appliances.  He was clearly trying to be helpful, which Ignis could appreciate, but at the moment it was a bit overwhelming.  The soreness was setting in, Ignis was winded from all of the walking, and the tumult of conflicting emotions he felt did not help his failing endurance.</p><p>“Master bathroom,” Noct said, pressing Ignis’s hand to the intercom panel and light switch, on the wall to the right, just inside the door.  “There are two sinks, just ahead on the right.”  Noct guided him forward until the countertop was within reach—smooth, cool marble under his fingers.  “Soaking tub’s over here, on the left…”</p><p>The tub was inset in marble beyond a broad shelf; feeling this beneath his palm, Ignis sat down.  He breathed slowly, trying not to wince at the sharp pains in his chest.</p><p>“Toilet’s on the end—in the separate room beyond the tub,” Noct said.  “It’s next to the shower.  It has a glass door and there’s a lip on the floor, so be careful.  There’s shampoo and conditioner and a bar of soap inside.  I put rubber bands on the bottles—one on the shampoo and two on the conditioner.  If you want a shower, I can—”</p><p>Ignis’s head was positively spinning.  “Noct, <em>please</em>.”  It came out a bit sharper than he wanted, and Noct fell silent.  Ignis worked to soften his voice, resting his hands on his knees.  “I realize you’re trying to help, but please wait for me to <em>ask</em>.”</p><p>There was a pause, then Noct sighed.  “Yeah, sorry.  I read that.  I’ll try.”</p><p>“Read what?” Ignis asked.</p><p>“Some articles on accessibility.  What to do and what <em>not</em> to do…like not asking first.”  He sat down beside Ignis on the edge of the tub, their arms touching.  “Kind of went right out the window.  Sorry.”</p><p>Ignis shook his head.  “There’s no need to apologize—certainly not to that extent.  I understand it’s difficult to see me like this.  Were I in your position…”  He paused, a bit of a wry smile tugging at his lips.  “Well, I’ve been in your position and you know I’ve tended to smother you.”</p><p>“<em>Mother</em> me,” Noct said.</p><p>“Same difference.”</p><p>“Yeah, OK.”  Noct’s voice warmed. </p><p>They sat quietly for a moment and Ignis felt his chest loosen.</p><p>“So?” Noct asked eventually.  “What do you want now?”</p><p>A loaded question, that.  Or at least, his answer to it was.  More than he was ready to deal with at this moment.  “A shower and a nap, I think.”</p><p>“OK,” Noct said.  “If you need help with the brace, let me know.  I had to have Monica help me the first couple of times, before I could manage it on my own.”</p><p>Ignis nodded.</p><p>“Anything else I can help with?”</p><p>“If you could tell me where the towels are?”</p><p>“There’s a towel bar on the wall, just to the right of the shower.  There’s two hanging there.  The rest are in the linen closet, just outside the door.”</p><p>“Thank you, Noct.”</p><p>Noct shifted against him, touching his shoulder and leaning in to kiss his cheek.  “I’ll be right outside,” he said, “listening intently in case you ask for help.”</p><p>Ignis smiled, the glow in his chest warring with the ache he felt as Noct got up and moved away.  For now, warmth and sweetness won.  He was too tired and too in pain to fight it. </p><p>With Noct out of the room—though he was probably hovering right by the door—Ignis took his time familiarizing himself with the locations of things.  He was pleasantly surprised to find labels had been added even to the controls on the washlet, and all of the faucets had a band around one knob, presumably the hot side.  Ignis found the towels where Noct had indicated, plus a plush robe on a hook on the wall.  He left his visor on the countertop and retreated to the edge of the tub to sit down while he undressed.</p><p>His shirt and belt were no problem, and while removing his shoes and socks left him hissing in pain, he was not about to ask for help with that task.  Though he half expected Noct to run in anyway, he was quite pleased when Noct did not.  He unclipped the various buckles on the chest brace and shimmied out of it, and then took off his trousers and underwear, leaving everything where he would be able to find it afterwards.</p><p>The shower was wonderful.  While there had been no lack of hot water in Lestallum thanks to the meteorshards, so many people crammed into such a small space meant there was never any time to linger; someone was always waiting for their turn.  A hot soak in that tub would feel incredible, if he could talk himself into it one day, when he was a bit more convinced of their resources.  Even better if he could share that bath with someone else, but that was a very, <em>very</em> inappropriate thought—especially given the circumstances—and he immediately wiped it from his mind.</p><p>Ignis emerged from the shower with his aching muscles soothed, calm and drowsy.  He dried off and wrapped a towel around his hips, taking the robe with him to the edge of the tub and sitting down.  Picking up the chest brace, he manipulated the various straps and quickly realized he ought to have been a bit more careful taking it off—specifically, he should have buckled everything so he’d have known what went where.  Well, lesson learned.</p><p>“Noct?”</p><p>The response was immediate, not unexpectedly.  “Yeah?”</p><p>“I do need help figuring this out, if you don’t mind,” Ignis said, holding up the brace.</p><p>“Sure.”  Noct came over, taking the brace from him.</p><p>Ignis straightened up and…silence.  Noct had gone still, not even breathing.  <em>…Ah.</em>  “I suppose it isn’t very pleasant to look at,” he murmured.</p><p>Noct made a quiet noise.  “It’s just colorful, Specs.  Arms out, OK?”</p><p>He moved his arms as indicated, allowing Noct to wrap the brace around him and connect all of the straps.  Noct’s hand lingered when he was done, thumb worrying a bit of skin just to the side of Ignis’s sternum, near one of the buckles.</p><p>Ignis tilted his face up towards Noct’s, wondering what expression his king wore.  “Noct?”</p><p>“You had it worse than me,” Noct whispered.  “The broader part of the sword…”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips.  “A choice I’d make again.”  <em>A thousand times over.  You’re alive.</em></p><p>Noct lifted his hand away, though he didn’t go far.  His palms, warm and damp from the residual mist in the room, cupped Ignis’s face, fingers tangling into his wet hair.  Noct’s lips touched his with gentle, sweet pressure, yet behind the kiss, Ignis could feel the force of all the emotions hanging in the air between them.  Loss and recovery, sacrifice and hope.  He should not encourage this—they needed to <em>talk</em>—but his arms wrapped around Noct of their own accord, drawing him closer still, and his knees shifted to make room—  Noct sank against him, a hitched breath in his throat, one hand falling to brace on the edge of the tub as they kissed.</p><p>Ignis would deny he’d opened his mouth first, but perhaps he had.  Either way, he was drowning—pleasantly and willingly—with their tongues sliding against one another, quiet groans trapped by the seal of their lips.  A fire burned in Ignis’s chest, not pain from the blade but deeper, his love and devotion pouring from his heart—all for Noctis.</p><p>They were both breathless when they parted, chests heaving, and Ignis couldn’t help a wince—each deep breath feeling like the cut of knives behind his ribcage.  Noct settled into a kneel between his thighs, arms wrapped around Ignis’s waist, the cotton of his shirt sleeves sticking to Ignis’s damp skin.</p><p>Ignis made a grab for his towel, holding it in place.</p><p>“A nap, right?” Noct asked, breath threading out. </p><p>It was an innocent question, and Ignis nodded.  “Give me a moment to get dressed, would you?” he asked in a whisper, his hand gliding over Noct’s face in a caress, his thumb nudging the swell of Noct’s lower lip.</p><p>“OK.”  Noct unwound his arms and got up, his warmth retreating with his footsteps.</p><p>Ignis closed his eyes, breathing slowly to get through the pain.  They’d talk, yes, but one thing was certain to him now.  And really, he was deluding himself to think it hadn’t been this way forever.  He was Noct’s in every sense of the word.  Whatever Noct asked of him, he would be.  Even if it left him ruined and heartbroken in the end.  He was ruined already.</p><p>Ignis pulled on his underwear and the robe, tying the belt to secure it.  He carried his visor and felt his way out into the bedroom.</p><p>“Here, Specs.  On your left.”</p><p>He followed Noct’s voice to the bed.  Ignis found the bedside table, where he left his visor, and the blankets Noct had pushed back.</p><p>“I added some pillows,” Noct said, patting them for emphasis.</p><p>Ignis slipped beneath the covers and lay back, his head and shoulders finding the nest of pillows Noct had prepared.  He wasn’t surprised when Noct stretched out beside him after situating the blankets.</p><p>Underneath the covers, Noct captured Ignis’s left hand in both of his, weaving their fingers together.  “If I’m too close, let me know,” he whispered.</p><p>“You’re not,” Ignis said.  He turned his head in a silent invitation—</p><p>And was not disappointed, Noct scooting closer for a tender brush of lips.</p><p>“I love you,” Ignis whispered.  <em>That will never change</em>.</p><p>He heard Noct’s smile in his exhale of breath.  “Love you too, Specs.”</p><p>They settled in, and Ignis let the exhaustion take him.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Noct wasn’t beside him when Ignis stirred awake sometime later, though he heard voices, slightly muffled, from another part of the apartment.  The chest pain had subsided somewhat—more of a lingering soreness than anything else, though there were still sharper sensations as he stretched a bit.  He felt around on the bedside table for his phone, but only found his visor.  Right, he must remember to ask about that.  Pushing the covers back, Ignis swung his legs out of the bed and paused a moment, the plush robe slightly askew on his frame.</p><p>He’d left his clothes in the bathroom, hadn’t he?  Everything would be wrinkled by now.  It was unlike him to be so careless, though given his injuries he supposed he shouldn’t be too harsh with himself.  Ignis got up, silently counting his steps to the bathroom and went about washing up and getting dressed.  He had his trousers on and was in the midst of buttoning his shirt when he heard footsteps and Noct’s voice from the bathroom doorway, probably alerted to his wakefulness by the sound of the toilet or the sink.</p><p>“Hey, you’re up.”</p><p>“That I am.”  Ignis finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it in.  “What time is it?”</p><p>“Seven, almost.  Prompto and Gladio are here.  They brought dinner up, if you’re hungry.”</p><p>He nodded, reaching for his belt.  “I’ll join you shortly.” </p><p>“OK.”  Noct seemed to hesitate for a moment, then left.</p><p>Ignis went to the sink, feeling around on the counter.  Toothbrush and toothpaste, comb, soap…just those few items.  Unfortunate, when he was in dire need of a proper shave.  He combed his hair into something presentable enough, he hoped, and left the bathroom.</p><p>There was a wardrobe on the wall to his right as he emerged into the bedroom.  Ignis found a pair of house slippers in the bottom of it and opened the bedroom door, following the sound of his friends’ voices down the hall.</p><p>As he emerged into an open space, he slowed his steps, trying to recall the layout of the furniture Noct had—briefly—walked him around before.  Alas, it was all a bit murky.  With his cane, he’d have no problem diving straight into the fray, as it were, but that was another thing he’d have to ask about.  He’d left it in the Armiger; Noct had mentioned a box somewhere.</p><p>“Iggy!”  Prompto came over, knuckles lightly tapping his right arm.  “Look at you, all walking around.  Little sword wound ain’t nothing, huh?”</p><p>Noct made a soft sound of disagreement.</p><p>“For that I have the Crystal—and Providence—to thank, I suppose,” Ignis said.  “Would you mind taking me to the table, Prompto?”</p><p>“Sure!”  Prompto led him through the sitting room to the brighter dining area, guiding him to a chair.  “Right here.  Noct’s on your left.” </p><p>“Thank you, Prompto.” </p><p>With a gentle pat to his shoulder, Prompto moved off to Ignis’s right.</p><p>Ignis pulled his chair out and sat down, listening to the soft clatter of dishes and utensils as things were set out on the table.</p><p>“Here ya go, Iggy,” Gladio said, placing a dish in front of him.</p><p>“My thanks.”  He inhaled the aroma of the food, detecting canned meat, beans, and spices.  “And what are we having this evening?  Smells like a type of cassoulet.”  He found the flatware and napkin in front of him, unfolding the latter and placing it in his lap.</p><p>“Huh.”  Noct, close on his left, sounded astonished.  “Your nose is as good as ever.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “Was there a doubt?”</p><p>“Uh…”</p><p>“Dude, the nose knows!”</p><p>“Dig in before it gets cold, would ya?”</p><p>Ignis found his spoon.  “Cheers.”  He tasted his first bite, accompanied by the sounds of eating around the table.  For canned fare, it had truly been elevated into something delicious with a unique and familiar blend of spices.  “Tastes like Aranea’s recipe, if I’m not mistaken,” he said, glancing across the table in Prompto’s direction.</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “You know you’re not.”</p><p>Indeed.  Ignis smiled wryly and ate another bite.</p><p>“She gave the chef the recipe,” Prompto said.  “You know it’s all the kids will eat, sometimes.”  He sighed.  “Man, can it <em>be</em> next week already?”</p><p>“And what happens next week?” Ignis asked.</p><p>“You-know-who comes back,” Gladio said.</p><p>“Ah.”  Ignis lifted another spoonful of food.</p><p>“Don’t look at me like that!  The kids are driving me crazy!  It’s time for the co-parent to do some co-parenting.”</p><p>“Sure,” Noct said.  “That’s the <em>only</em> reason.”</p><p>“You <em>guys</em>!  No one’s on my side here!”</p><p>As the other three went back and forth a bit more, Ignis smiled to himself, quietly treasuring the moment as he ate.  How long had it been, since the four of them had relaxed and bantered like this?  Since before the Night, before Altissia, perhaps even before the Fall, since they’d truly been this carefree.  Out on the road, under the stars, blithely making their way to Galdin Quay, never guessing how everything was about to fall apart.</p><p>And yet, here they were—the four of them together, alive and well and <em>home</em>, with Insomnia being rebuilt around them.  It was more than a little overwhelming to think of it.</p><p>“Iggy, you OK?”</p><p>Gladio was the one who’d asked, kitty-corner from him at the table.  Noct and Prompto quieted as well.</p><p>Ignis nodded, offering a smile.  “Just reflecting on what we’ve been through and how far we’ve come.  And how grateful I am to be sitting here with the three of you.”  He canted his head towards each of them in turn, to Noct last and longest of all.</p><p>The silence, poignant and warm, persisted for a moment.</p><p>Until Prompto broke it.  “<em>Dude</em>,” he whispered.</p><p>Noct said nothing, though he inhaled, slowly and audibly.</p><p>“Noct’s gonna cry,” Gladio murmured.</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em> crying.”  Flatware clanked; there was a snap of a napkin and a muffled noise from Ignis’s left.</p><p>“It‘s good to have you back, Iggy,” Gladio said.  “Really good.”</p><p>Ignis inclined his head.</p><p>“A toast!” Prompto said, surging upward.</p><p>“Sit <em>down</em>.”  There was a slight scuffle across the table.  “We got nothing to toast <em>with</em>.” </p><p>“There’s always beer roulette!  I’ve got some downstairs.”</p><p>Ignis exhaled.  Horrible game, that.</p><p>“There were a couple cans of expired Ebony in the Armiger,” Noct said. </p><p>He perked up.  “Were there?  They weren’t expired when I put them in there.  How long have they been out?”</p><p>“Um.  November?”</p><p><em>Drat</em>.  Ignis frowned.  “Might not be <em>vile</em> as yet.”</p><p>“You know what else was in the Armiger?” Gladio asked—a clearly leading question.</p><p>“Why you gotta bring that up?” Noct asked.</p><p>Gladio laughed.  “Just a fishing lure or two.  Right, Noct?”</p><p>“<em>Whatever</em>.”</p><p>“Oh, hey, Noct!  Did you give him the thing yet?” Prompto asked.</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  A thing, hmm?</p><p>“No, <em>stop</em>.”</p><p>“Come on, dude!  It’s done, right?  You’ve been working on it <em>forever</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah, later, OK?”</p><p>Ignis shoved his curiosity to the side, assured that whatever it was, he would find out from Noct in due time.  “And what about you, Gladio?  Might you have any developments to share?”</p><p>“Oh, <em>right</em>,” Prompto said.  “He hasn’t met Valora yet.”</p><p>“Valora Zavala?” Ignis asked.  “The hunter you worked with on the Ravatogh jobs?”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Kept that well under wraps, didn’t you?”</p><p>It wasn’t hard to imagine the smirk on Gladio’s face.  “I’ll introduce you officially, when you’re up for it.”</p><p>“Hey, hey.  Did you pop the question?” Prompto asked.</p><p>“<em>Cool it</em>.  I’ve got a thing planned.”</p><p>“Does it involve fighting stuff?” Noct asked.</p><p>“While we’re on the subject of <em>weddings</em>.  You know there’s gonna be drama next week.  Are <em>you</em> ready?”</p><p>Noct inhaled sharply.</p><p>In the silence that followed, Ignis carefully set his spoon down, trying to ignore the blade of ice that had just gone through his chest.  “Something I should know?” he asked, unable to keep a slightly bitter note from his voice.</p><p>“You didn’t <em>tell</em> him yet?” Gladio asked.</p><p>“Noct!”  It sounded like Prompto got up again, perhaps kneeling on his chair.  “How could you not’ve—”</p><p>“Because I <em>didn’t</em> yet.  Cut me some slack!  A lot’s happened in the last day.”  Noct twisted in his chair, towards him, his hand landing on Ignis’s left shoulder.  “There’s no wedding, Specs, that’s the bottom line.”</p><p>Ignis said nothing, angling his face in Noct’s direction as the cold shards pushed deeper into his heart.</p><p>“Yeah, just a lot of rabid fanboys and fangirls who think there <em>should</em> be,” Prompto said, dropping back into his chair.</p><p>“It’s gonna start even before she gets here,” Gladio said.  “You need a better strategy than just ignoring it.  Especially…”</p><p>Ignis couldn’t see whatever look was exchanged between them, but he could form a guess given the way Noct’s hand tightened on his shoulder. </p><p>“I know.  I’ll figure something out.  Just…just drop it, OK?”</p><p>The tense silence stretched for several seconds.</p><p>At length, Gladio shifted in his chair and exhaled.  Noct let go of Ignis’s shoulder.  Flatware was picked up, the sounds of eating hesitantly resuming around the table.</p><p>Ignis had lost his appetite.  He wiped his mouth with his napkin and folded it, placing it beside his dish on the table. </p><p>The others stopped eating.</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips.  “Noctis, when you are ready to talk, I’ll be in the other room.”  Supposing he could get to the hallway without running into a wall or tripping over the furniture.  “Prompto, may I ask for your assistance?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah!”  Prompto jumped up.  “‘Course, Iggy.”  He rounded the table as Ignis pushed his chair back and stood up.</p><p>“Specs—” Noct’s chair scraped back, his hand closing gently around Ignis’s arm.</p><p>Ignis closed his eyes.  “I’m not angry, Noct.  But there are things we need to discuss.”  <em>In private</em>.  Noct’s hand fell away from him.  Ignis nodded to Prompto, who lightly touched his elbow, guiding him from the table.</p><p>They crossed the sitting room, and Noct probably thought that they were out of earshot.</p><p>“Why’d you have to bring it up?”</p><p>“How was I supposed to know you didn’t tell him yet?  We’re talking Relationship 101, Noct, come on.”</p><p>Ignis exhaled a sigh.</p><p>“Hallway’s here,” Prompto said, moving slightly behind him and guiding him into the narrower space.  “Where to?”</p><p>“The bedroom, I suppose.”</p><p>“Last door on the right.”  Prompto steered him there.</p><p>The lighting changed—brightening—as they passed through the doorway. </p><p>“Would you direct me to the sofa, please?” Ignis asked.  “I haven’t had a chance to get my bearings yet.”</p><p>“Yeah, right in front of the fireplace,” Prompto said.  “Straight ahead, about eight feet, a bit to the right.”</p><p>“Thank you.”  Ignis started in that direction.  “If I could ask another favor, Prompto, do you see my cane anywhere?”  He reached out and found the back of the sofa just as Prompto had indicated.  It was an antique style, like many of the Citadel’s furnishings, with an intricately carved frame and tufted cushions, upholstered in velvet fabric.</p><p>“Uh…yep!  Got it.”  Prompto brought the cane to him, nudging his hand with it.  “Anything else?”</p><p>Ignis shook his head, grasping his cane and feeling a bit more secure with its familiar weight in his hand.  “No, thank you.”</p><p>Prompto touched his arm, a tap of knuckles, and then his footsteps receded—just in time to meet the set approaching from the hall.</p><p>Ignis rounded the couch and sat down.  He crossed his legs and rested his hands together atop his cane.  There were low voices, briefly, from the hall, then Noct came into the room and closed the door.</p><p>Ignis waited.</p><p>Noct didn’t move from the door at first.  “Specs…”</p><p>“I said I’m not angry, Noct,” he said, canting his head in the direction of Noct’s voice.  “Please, sit down.”</p><p>Noct breathed out.  He came over and dropped down onto the couch beside him, on Ignis’s right.  Just short of flopping down the way he would at times during his petulant teenage years.  And he didn’t say anything.  Perhaps he didn’t know how to.  Maybe that’s why they hadn’t talked about this yet, whatever ‘this’ was.</p><p>Ignis purposefully used gentle and soothing tones when he spoke.  “Why don’t you start by explaining this ‘no-wedding’ business to me?”  It seemed a straight-forward enough question when he framed it and asked it.</p><p>But it wasn’t, apparently, because Noct’s breath hitched in a tight and labored way, not a sob but nonetheless tortured.  There was a long, silent minute before he spoke and even then it was naught but a whisper.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Specs.”  He shifted—Ignis imagined him fidgeting.  “I didn’t mean for it to come up like that.  I was gonna tell you, I just…  I just didn’t know <em>how</em>.”</p><p>He lapsed back into silence and Ignis felt a familiar tug at his heart.  In some ways, Noct was a 20-year-old in a 31-year-old’s body, with the weight of a nation on his slender shoulders.  And while his time in the Crystal may have prepared him to <em>give</em> his life, it had not prepared him to live it, nor could it make up for the time and experience he’d lost during those ten years.  Noct was also, Ignis knew, one hundred percent new to navigating any sort of romantic relationship, anything beyond corresponding long distance with Lady Lunafreya.</p><p>Ignis opened his stance, setting his cane aside—propped against the edge of the sofa.  He reached out, laying a gentle hand on Noct’s left shoulder.  “Didn’t know how to tell me what?” he asked.</p><p>Noct hunched forward, as if ashamed.  The words came out in a rush of breath.  “That I brought Luna here and proposed to her because I thought it was the right thing to do.”  He sucked air through his teeth.  “How am I supposed to tell someone I really love that I proposed to <em>someone else</em> while they were asleep?”</p><p><em>Oh, Noct</em>.  The ache in Ignis’s chest was more for Noct’s sake than his own.  “The conversation earlier led me to believe that you are not, currently, betrothed to Lady Lunafreya.  Is that correct?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said.  “We’re not.”</p><p>“Alright.”  Ignis exhaled, rubbing Noct’s shoulder lightly, the cotton of his dress shirt soft beneath his palm.  “Now let’s unpack the rest a bit at a time, shall we?”  He sat back against the cushions.  “First, Noct, you brought Lady Lunafreya <em>here</em> to propose to her, instead of going to Tenebrae?”  Ignis shook his head lightly.  “Basic courtship etiquette.  Always <em>go</em> to the one you’re trying to woo, rather than making them come to you.  The former is romantic, the latter is a powerplay and hardly a good way to start a relationship.”</p><p>Noct straightened up.  “<em>That’s</em> what you’re gonna lecture me on?”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips, stifling a smile.  “Look at my face, Noct.”</p><p>He did, presumably, and sighed.  “Oh.”  Some of the tension bled out of the air between them, just as Ignis had hoped.  “I wasn’t going to leave you,” Noct said.  “There was no way I was going to leave you.”</p><p>The intensity of Noct’s words washed over him, through him.  Ignis sobered.  He turned a bit more towards Noctis, releasing his shoulder in favor of finding his hand and squeezing gently.  “Tell me about thinking you were doing the right thing.”</p><p>Noct brought both of his hands to grip his.  “For the kingdom,” he said.  “Because the king should have a queen, right?  And heirs for the line.  It’s…what I thought you would’ve said if you were awake.”</p><p>Noct knew him too well.  It made Ignis self-conscious, ever so aware of his immediate thoughts this morning, given confirmation that Lady Lunafreya lived…and now to know the distress his advising would have—<em>had</em>—caused.  He exhaled slowly.  “While I wouldn’t say you thought wrong, Noct, I’d like to think I would have asked you a question.”</p><p>“What question?”</p><p>“About how you feel about Lady Lunafreya.  I thought you were quite fond of her, given your correspondence over the years.  And your insistence on getting to her in Altissia despite your qualms about the wedding.”  He paused.  “I was under the impression that you have strong feelings for her.”</p><p>Noct blew out a breath.  “I…I do.”</p><p>Ignis felt that as a pang, a tightness in his chest.  “Then I might have advised you the same.  Because a king ought to have a queen and the line does require heirs.”</p><p>Noct said nothing, fidgeting with his hand, weaving and unweaving their fingers.</p><p>Ignis looked down towards their clasped hands.  “But yet you’re here.  <em>Not</em> betrothed.”</p><p>Noct sucked in a breath.  “Because—”  His hands clamped down on Ignis’s.  “Because I love Luna, but not the way I love you.”  His voice faded to a whisper.  “Because the things I want with Luna are different than the things I want with you.”</p><p>Ignis’s mouth went dry.  “What do you want with Lady Lunafreya?”</p><p>“What I have now,” Noct said.  “We’re friends.  We’re family.  We’re important to each other.”</p><p>Ignis shifted against the cushions, tilting his face towards Noct’s, telling himself he wasn’t moving closer, though he was.  Persisting in an objective line of questioning regardless of the fact that his own objectivity was a blur at best.  “And what…do you want with me?” he asked.</p><p>“Everything.”  There was not a second’s hesitation.</p><p>Ignis felt Noct’s answer to the core of his being, as if Noct had reached inside him and carved the word into his heart.</p><p>Noct turned to face him, his knee brushing Ignis’s.  “You once said you love me <em>all</em> ways.  That’s what I want.  All of it.”  It was a request and a demand, both at once.  “All the ways.”</p><p>Ignis’s lips unsealed, his heart pounding an unstable rhythm in his chest.  “I see.”</p><p>“Are you going to say we can’t?”  —A challenge, that.  Noct’s eyes would be piercing.  Would that he could see that blue fire again, and lose himself in it.</p><p>Ignis brought their laced fingers to his lips.  “Will I say, for the sake of the kingdom, that we shouldn’t?”  He arched a brow and kissed Noct’s knuckles.  “Absolutely.”  Noct’s hand twitched; Ignis tightened his grip.  “But will I say we can’t?”  He exhaled.  “If you think that, you underestimate how selfish I truly am.  And how intensely difficult I find it to say ‘no’ to you.”</p><p>Noct breathed out hard, a tremor running through his fingers.  He was silent for a good minute.  “You said ‘no’ to me on the stairs,” Noct said—a whisper, leading and warming.  “When you wouldn’t let me go.”</p><p>“The former may override the latter,” Ignis said.  “When there’s a conflict.”</p><p>“Huh…”  Oh, there was a smile in the sound, a victorious little smirk.  Noct shifted onto his knees on the sofa cushions, leaning in.</p><p>Ignis drew back, evading.  “Noct.  Before that.”  He raised his brows.  “Rabid fanboys and fangirls?”</p><p>Noct settled back with a grunt.  “First Secretary Claustra sent me the dress.  People know it’s here.  So a lot of rumors popped up when Luna visited in January.  They’ve died down since, but we never formally announced anything.  And Vyv keeps publishing things about Luna possibly being the next Queen of Lucis.”</p><p>“Hm.”  Ignis’s eyes narrowed.  “Something to be addressed.”</p><p>“You’ve got ideas?”</p><p>“Allow me some time to think on it.”  He exhaled thoughtfully, lowering their joined hands to rest on their knees.  “Something else I must ask, Noct.  Lady Lunafreya has truly agreed?  Again, I had presumed…”</p><p>“She knew the way I felt better than I did,” Noct said.  “As for her feelings…  You’d probably have to talk to her to understand.  The way she loves me versus the way she loves everyone.”  He paused.  “She’s coming here to see you, by the way.  Visiting me is just a bonus.  Says she owes you a debt and wants to thank you in person.”</p><p>“A debt?”</p><p>“Yeah.  Dunno what.  She said the same thing about Prompto.”</p><p>Ignis shifted, sitting back with his shoulders against the cushions.  “I’m certain it’s the other way around.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“The vision from Pryna.”  He wove his fingers firmly through Noct’s.  “The one that changed everything for me.  It could only have come from her.  Without it, I…”  He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling painfully.  “I never would have tried to do anything.  But it haunted me for a decade while you slept.”</p><p>Noct moved, slowly and carefully but with sure purpose as he knelt on the couch, easing close—nearly in Ignis’s lap with his right knee sliding over Ignis’s thigh.  His hands, warm and shaking, brushed hair back from Ignis’s face.  “You’re really…  You’re really not going to argue with me about the kingdom?  About putting it first?”</p><p>Ignis’s lashes fluttered, ever so aware of how close they were.  He lifted his hands to Noct’s shoulders and let them drift down his king’s back to alight on his waist.  “I had…thought along those lines this morning, I’ll admit.  But I…”  He bit his lower lip, drawing Noct closer still.  “I love you so much that at times it almost frightens me.  How little I love everything else in comparison.”</p><p>Noct breathed out in a rush against his lips and kissed him.</p><p>It was firm, hard enough to bruise, demanding.  Noct crushed their mouths together and Ignis gladly surrendered to his king, parting his lips as Noct’s tongue slipped inside to push against his.  <em>Years</em> of longing stirred beneath Ignis’s skin as he returned the kiss—eager and wanting.  He grasped Noct’s hips, feeling muscle and bone shift beneath fabric as Noct climbed fully onto his lap and leaned against him, pressing their bodies flush, trapping him against the back of the couch.</p><p>A sharp pain blossomed in Ignis’s chest, entirely unwelcomed, yet unignorable.  He pulled back with a hiss, wincing.</p><p>Noct eased off him immediately, sitting back.  “Sorry,” he whispered, breathless.  “You OK?”</p><p>Ignis breathed slowly, nodding as the pain subsided.  “I will be.”</p><p>Noct slipped from his lap, settling beside him on the couch again.  “Sorry,” he said again, sheepish.</p><p>“<em>I’m</em> not,” Ignis said, smiling wryly and savoring the taste of Noctis on his lips.  “An inconvenience that ought to resolve itself with time.  If anyone should apologize, it—”</p><p>“Don’t even,” Noct said.  “You took the sword for <em>me</em>.”</p><p>Ignis couldn’t help a bit of pride, at that.  Their hands found each other, fingers interlocking.  </p><p>In the calm that followed as they both caught their breath, a thought occurred to him.  “Are the others waiting on us?”  Ignis certainly hoped <em>not</em>, his face heating a bit.</p><p>“I told them they didn’t have to stay,” Noct said, the cushions shifting as he leaned back.  “Didn’t know how long this was gonna take.”  He sighed, squeezing Ignis’s hand.  “Really, Specs, I’m sorry.  I should’ve figured out how to say something right away.”</p><p>Ignis shook his head.  “I didn’t ask either, even though I had questions—or, rather, assumptions.”  He hummed, wordlessly chiding himself.  “But I was too busy simply reveling in the fact that you’d survived.”</p><p>“Mm.”  There was warmth—a smile—in the sound.  “So…do you want the rest of your dinner, or…?”</p><p>“Hm.”  Ignis considered it, still feeling the residual ache in his chest.  “Not now, I think.  I ought to do my breathing exercises—which I will have you leave the room for—and then…”  He frowned.  “I’m keeping you from things, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Nothing important,” Noct said.  “Not compared to you.”</p><p>His stomach did a sweet flip at Noct’s words.  Ignis smiled.</p><p>“I should shower—kinda skipped that this morning—and change, but I’ll come back.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “Staying tonight?”</p><p>“Unless you tell me I can’t,” Noct said.</p><p><em>I would never</em>.  Ignis tugged on Noct’s hand, drawing close, finding Noct’s lips without too much difficulty for a chaste kiss.  “Kindly use a pillow in lieu of my chest, otherwise you’re welcome in my bed, Noct.  Always.”  He didn’t mean to be suggestive <em>necessarily</em>, and not presently, given his current state, but he was certain—especially with Noct’s hitch of breath—that the implications came through well enough.</p><p>“All ways?” Noct asked, breath warm against his lips, a little shiver of <em>want</em> in his voice.</p><p>Ignis kissed him again, just lightly—a promise.  “All ways,” he whispered.  “In time.”</p><p>“Mn.”  Noct drew back, his slow exhale lingering in the air between them.  “OK.  I’ll be back soon.”  Then he was up and gone.</p><p>Ignis sat there for a few minutes after he’d left, savoring the afterglow of the moment.  Certainly, there’d be complications to come…drama to deal with…but none of that mattered right now.</p><p>He did his breathing exercises, glad Noctis wasn’t there to hear him coughing, and then—with his cane—set about exploring the apartment more thoroughly.  The table had been cleared, dinner leftovers packed into the fridge.  Other than a few dishes and utensils, the cabinets were largely bare.  Still, he took the time to familiarize himself with the placement of things and the various appliances, smiling as he found the labels on the oven controls.  Baking was a luxury he’d only allowed himself on special occasions during the Night; he was keen to do it again, once things settled a bit.</p><p>Ignis moved around the table, which seated six, and then walked through the sitting room and foyer, mapping out the layout and furniture in his mind.  The fatigue of a mending body caught up with him soon enough.</p><p>Returning to the bedroom, Ignis opened the various drawers in the wardrobe, feeling his way through their contents.  He found a pair of pajamas that felt of an appropriate size—a button-up silk shirt with long sleeves and matching, full-length bottoms.  They fit well, as it turned out, and Ignis took the time to hang up his clothes before washing up for bed and brushing his teeth.</p><p>He found the main light switch, plunging the room from gray to night black, though he left a lamp on for Noct, on the nightstand on the left side of the bed.  With his visor and cane placed within reach, Ignis lay down and stretched out, sinking into the softness of the bed as though being wrapped in a cloud.</p><p>He was nearly asleep when Noct returned, stirring to the sound of quiet footsteps, the rustle of clothing and sheets.  The mattress depressed as Noct slid in against him, scooting over and lying on his side with a silk-clad arm curling around his waist.  “This OK?” he asked, his breath warm against Ignis’s left ear.</p><p>Ignis lay his arm over Noct’s, finding Noct’s hand and weaving their fingers together…loving the feel of his king cuddled against him.  “It’s perfect, my love,” he whispered.  He turned his head, searching—</p><p>Their lips met softly, briefly.  “<em>Specs</em>…”  Noct’s arm tightened.</p><p>Ignis smiled and fell asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ignis awoke when the mattress shifted—Noctis climbing out of bed.  Stiff and drowsy—and notably sore—he stretched, muffling a groan.</p><p>“No, don’t get up.”  A warm hand touched his cheek, followed immediately by lips on his, pressing him back into the pillows.  “Stay in bed,” Noct whispered.  “I’ve got an early meeting.  Prom will be by in a bit with breakfast.”</p><p>Ignis was too tired to argue.  “Alright.”  He chased Noct’s lips, stealing another kiss before he surrendered to sleep as Noct left the room.</p><p>-x-</p><p>There was a kingsglaive uniform in the wardrobe and it had to be a new jacket, shirt, and vest as there were no signs of mended gashes—certainly not of the length to match his chest wound.  Ignis dressed except for the jacket and went through all of the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom for a second time.  He found his shaving brush, soap, and the strop, but not his razor or his aftershave.  It all <em>should</em> have been in the Armiger, but even going through the box Noct had left for him in the bedroom, he came up emptyhanded.</p><p>“Damn,” Ignis muttered, rubbing the whiskers on his chin.  He had over a week’s worth of growth, with longer hair on his chin than on the sides—<em>terribly</em> unkempt—and there was absolutely no way he was walking into his king’s office looking so ragged.  Unfortunately, the tools currently at his disposal were quite limited.  His favorite pair of daggers were in the Armiger box and it was an utterly heinous idea, but he was seriously contemplating his level of desperation when the intercom chimed.</p><p>Ignis got up from his crouch beside the box, following the sound of the chime to the wall, and found the intercom button.  “Yes?”</p><p>“Hey Iggy!”  Prompto’s voice was as bright and cheery as always.</p><p>Ignis pushed the button to let him in and went into the hallway, arriving in the foyer just as Prompto came into the apartment.  “Good morning, Prompto.”</p><p>“‘Morning!  Oh hey—the rugged look!  Nice!”</p><p>Ignis sighed, not bothering to hide his irritation.  “I don’t suppose you have any idea where my straight edge has been spirited away to.”</p><p>Prompto hummed thoughtfully.  “Was it in the—”</p><p>“Armiger?  Yes, it was.  And I have the box here—” he turned and headed back down the hall towards the bedroom, Prompto following, “but no luck.”</p><p>“Hm.  You’ll have to ask Noct.  He was taking care of your stuff while you were, you know, out.”</p><p>Ignis nodded, resigned.</p><p>“He’s in a meeting, but I can, uh—”</p><p>“No need to interrupt him, it’s certainly not <em>that</em> sort of emergency.”  Ignis frowned.  “Is there perhaps a drugstore nearby?  Those must be up and running by now, yes?”</p><p>“Yeah, sorta.  There’s usually a waiting list.  Most of the shipments from Lestallum or the salvage from the city gets picked up pretty fast.”</p><p>“Ah.  Of course.”  It hadn’t been much different during the Night.</p><p>“I’ve got a trimmer, if you want?  I can run down and get it.”</p><p>Ignis rubbed his chin again.  He simply couldn’t do nothing, yet taking the better part of the day to secure a suitable alternative seemed a frivolous waste of time and resources.  “That’ll do,” he said finally.  “Thank you, Prompto.”</p><p>“Hey, no problem!  Be right back!”  Prompto bounded out of the room.</p><p>“This is payback,” Ignis murmured to himself.  “This is what I get for making fun of Prompto’s goatee, isn’t it?”  He exhaled and went into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub to wait.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Prompto ended up helping him since Ignis wasn’t very familiar with the electric grooming tool.  He ran his fingertips over the remaining stubble, after.  “It’s even, at least?”</p><p>“Hell yeah!  You look great with a beard, Iggy!”</p><p>Ignis sighed.  He combed his hair but left it down, parted on the left side with the fringe swept across his brow, similar to a style he’d worn years ago during his Citadel duties.  Hopefully he didn’t look too ridiculous.</p><p>After breakfast, which consisted of eggs and rice with a bit of canned spinach—seasoned well, at least, with a sweet and salty sauce—Ignis donned his jacket, took up his cane, and followed Prompto out of his apartment to the elevators.</p><p>“I’ll take you down, then I’ve gotta rescue Cor from the kids,” Prompto said, hitting the button for the lift.</p><p>Ignis arched a brow behind his visor.  “If you need to go, I’m sure I can find my way.  The office complex, at least, I remember quite well.”</p><p>“Oh no.  Noct gave me a mission to deliver you, so I’m gonna deliver you.”</p><p>Ignis pursed his lips, amused.  “Well, the parcel will endeavor to behave himself.”  They boarded the elevator.  “Eighteenth floor, yes?”  Unless the king’s office had moved, which he rather doubted, even acknowledging the damage done to the building during the signing, per the reports.</p><p>“Yup!”</p><p>After the short lift ride, Ignis led the way, turning to his right upon leaving the elevator and feeling the warmth of the sun shining through the wall of windows on his left.  As they approached the administrative complex, he began to hear more activity—doors opening and closing, the click of shoes and heels against the marble floor.  It was all familiar, leaving him with a bit of nostalgia for the days long ago when he would accompany Noct to the king’s office and greet his uncle at the assistant’s desk.  Decades ago now, and an entirely different world, yet some things hadn’t changed so much perhaps.</p><p>“Wow, you really do know your way,” Prompto said as they stopped in front of the doors of the king’s outer office.  “Guess you basically lived here though, huh?”</p><p>“I did.  For a number of years.”  For several of them—the earliest years—he had a room in Noct’s suite.  It wasn’t uncommon for the prince’s attendants to find Noct curled up in Ignis’s bed, mornings after Noct had stolen into his room during the night, whether due to nightmares or simply not wanting to be alone.  They were memories that Ignis cherished and later missed when they were old enough to have separate quarters.</p><p>Ignis grasped the door handle, opening the door and allowing his cane to precede him as he stepped into the room.</p><p>A chair rolled back.  “Master Ignis.  Good morning.”  The woman’s Accordian accent was a joy to listen to.</p><p>“Ms. Michela, I presume?”  He followed her voice to her desk—side-stepping the furniture—and extended his hand.</p><p>She clasped his hand in a firm, proper handshake.  “Yes.  It’s a pleasure.”</p><p>“Please, the pleasure is mine.”  He smiled faintly and rested both of his hands atop his cane.  “What is the king’s schedule at present?”</p><p>“His Majesty is just finishing a conference call with EXINERIS.  But you’re free to go in.”</p><p>“I don’t need to interrupt.  When will the call be finished?”</p><p>“Master Ignis, His Majesty made it clear he expected to be interrupted the moment you arrived this morning.”</p><p><em>Noct</em>.  Ignis withheld a sigh.  “I see.  Thank you, Ms. Michela.  In that case, I’ll see myself inside.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p><p>Ignis moved around her desk to the inner doors and opened the one on the right-hand side.  As he entered the room, he heard someone get up off to the right and voices blaring from a speaker phone farther into the office, presumably on Noct’s desk.</p><p>“Hey Iggy,” Gladio said, joining him at the door.</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “The call?”</p><p>“It’s OK; he’s just listening on mute.  Still rocking the beard, huh?”  Gladio sounded amused.</p><p>“Not by choice, I tell you,” Ignis muttered.</p><p>Prompto entered behind them and closed the doors.  “‘Morning, Noct!  Got your delivery right here.  Though he pretty much delivered himself, I gotta say.”</p><p>“As I ought to,” Ignis said quietly.</p><p>Noct said nothing, presumably listening to his conference call and ignoring his crownsguard peanut gallery.  Just like he should, Ignis thought with pride.</p><p>“Uh…you OK, Noct?” Gladio asked, and snickered.  “Hey Prompto, where’s—”</p><p>“On it!”</p><p>Ignis heard the sound of Prompto’s digital camera shutter and frowned.  “Prompto, just what are you taking pictures of?”</p><p>“That’s a <em>look</em>, buddy,” Prompto said, laughing.</p><p>“Oh my God, both of you <em>out</em>,” Noct said.</p><p>“Later, dude!”</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll leave you two <em>alone</em>.”</p><p>Their footsteps retreated, the door opening and closing.</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “What was that about?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Noct said.  “They needed to leave.  I, uh, I’m almost done with this call.  Two minutes.”</p><p>Bit of an <em>annoying</em> response, but Ignis let it slide this time.  “Of course.”  As Noct returned to the EXINERIS call, Ignis moved about the room with his cane, finding the furniture and revising the mental map in his head.  Not much had changed, though some of the more decorative elements he recalled—end tables, vases, and the like—had been removed.  The bookshelves lining the walls remained and the same bar was there adjacent to the windows on the back wall.  Warm sunlight spilled in through the floor-to-ceiling glass and Ignis closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the trace of heat on his face and the reddish tint behind his eyelids.</p><p>“Yeah, thanks—Holly, Jeanne.  Same time next week.”</p><p>There was a chorus of replies, several voices overlapping, many of them familiar.  Then the sound abruptly ended and Noct’s desk chair rolled back.</p><p>Ignis turned from the windows and bowed properly.  “Majesty, I must apologize for my unkempt appearance.  I assure you, at the earliest opportunity, I will have this addressed.”</p><p>Noct approached…and stopped some distance away.  Ignis felt the weight of his king’s gaze as he straightened.</p><p>“You’re apologizing…?” Noct said under his breath.  “<em>Huh</em>…”  It was a long, drawn out sound—not a sigh but equally breathy. </p><p>It wasn’t something Ignis was used to hearing from Noctis and he was at a loss how to interpret it without seeing Noct’s face.  And Noct, unhelpfully, lapsed back into silence…though still seemed to be looking at him, if Ignis wasn’t mistaken.</p><p>After another minute passed—at least—Ignis finally broke the silence.  “Noct?”</p><p>Noct cleared his throat.  “Uh, yeah.”  He moved and bumped into something—his desk possibly?</p><p>He almost seemed…flustered?  Ignis wasn’t sure when he’d last seen Noct flustered—probably not since sometime in their teens.  <em>Hm…</em>  How interesting.  He was almost tempted to test the theory, except that doing so would be entirely <em>inappropriate</em> for the king’s office.  Later, perhaps.</p><p>Or maybe he’d prod just a little.</p><p>“Noct, have you by chance seen my razor?  Or my aftershave?” he asked, as if absently.  As if he weren’t listening for the slightest change in Noct’s breathing.</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said.  “Both?”  He inhaled.  “So I sent your razor out to be honed.  Dustin said it needed it.  I asked Cid to do it and he was supposed to have it done yesterday, but—I don’t know—he was being ornery because it’s still cold or something.  Anyways, it’s done now and Cindy’ll bring it by later today.”</p><p>“Quite thoughtful of you.  Thank you.”  Cid’s behavior didn’t surprise him at all.  “…And the aftershave?” Ignis asked, keeping his voice light.</p><p>“Yeah, that,” Noct said.  “I…I have it.”</p><p>“Thinking to take up shaving again?” Ignis asked, certain the answer was ‘no.’</p><p>“Just…because…”</p><p>Ignis smiled.  “It’s alright, Noct.  Would you mind returning it to me later?”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct let out a breath.  “Sure.”</p><p>“Might you know the whereabouts of my phone, as well?  Supposing it survived the throne room.”</p><p>“Mn.”  Noct slipped behind his desk; Ignis heard a drawer open.  “I had the battery replaced for you.  Since it wouldn’t hold a charge.”</p><p>Ignis joined him, leaning lightly against the side of the desk.</p><p>“Here.”  Noct handed it to him.  “I…didn’t try to guess your passcode or anything.”</p><p>“Didn’t try your birthday, hm?” Ignis asked, depressing the side button to power up the phone and slipping it into his pocket.  “Though it might’ve taken a couple of tries to get the right arrangement of digits.”</p><p>Noct exhaled, close enough that Ignis could feel the warmth of his breath on the side of his face.  “You’re lucky we’re in my office, you know that?” he murmured.</p><p>Ignis smothered a smile, aiming his sightless gaze at Noct’s face, at Noct’s lips specifically, he hoped.  “I’m not sure I am the lucky one in that regard, <em>Majesty</em>.”</p><p>Must’ve been close enough.  Noct’s breath hitched with a tantalizing shiver and Ignis <em>almost</em> forgot himself, <em>almost</em> leaned down, <em>almost </em>claimed his king’s lips for a kiss right then and there.  Sometimes he wished he were a little less disciplined.  Though, truly, the king being in a relationship with his chamberlain was scandal enough, wasn’t it?  Ignis straightened up, absently placing one hand on Noct’s desk—</p><p>—and felt a clutter of small pieces of paper under his palm.  They were…squares, a few inches across, sealed down on one side and loose on the other three.  Ignis ran his hand lightly over the desk’s surface, just one stripe of it, and found…dozens of them?  Overlapping and several deep in places.</p><p>“Noctis, what are these?”</p><p>“My, uh…my sticky notes,” Noct said.</p><p>“Your ‘sticky notes,’” Ignis murmured.  He turned to face the desk, passing his fingers over a larger swath…  He found the intercom and the monitor and keyboard…and every <em>other</em> square inch of real-estate was covered in these ‘sticky notes.’  “May I ask, for what purpose, you are using them to resurface your desk?”  He mentally cringed in advance.</p><p>“To…keep myself organized?”</p><p>“<em>Noctis</em>.”</p><p>“OK, in my defense, you weren’t ever supposed to <em>see</em> them.”</p><p>“The problem isn’t <em>me</em> seeing them, it’s everyone <em>else</em> who comes in here.”  Ignis sighed.  “See about removing the ones that aren’t reminding you of something immediately pressing.  Everything else, we will put into a system with a bit more logic behind it.  As well as being something I can help you with.”  He cocked a brow.  “Fair?”</p><p>“Mm.  Fair.”  Noct seemed to relax.</p><p>Ignis smiled.  “Now then.  What’s next on your schedule?”</p><p>“<em>Now</em>, I get to show you your office,” Noct said, lightly touching his arm.</p><p>“Hardly something that warrants <em>your</em> attention.”</p><p>“Too bad.  I’m pulling rank.”</p><p>Ignis huffed, even as he let Noct lead him away from the desk.  “Noct, you cannot just <em>do</em> that whenever it suits you.”</p><p>“Actually, I think I can,” Noct said, slipping his hand to the small of Ignis’s back.  “And I don’t think my chamberlain minds as much as he says he does.”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips, unable to argue the point.</p><p>They headed into the adjacent room, Ignis gliding his cane in short arcs over the marble floor.</p><p>“Seating’s on the left,” Noct said, staying by the door and allowing Ignis to proceed at his own pace.  “Couch, coffee table, two chairs.  Beyond that’s the door to your assistant’s office—I didn’t fill that position.  Prom and Gladio’ve been hanging out in there when they’re not in with me—or in here—but we can sort something out.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Ignis said, finding the couch with a tap of his cane.  He reached out, running his hand over the intricately carved wooden back, his fingertips brushing the tufted velvet cushions.</p><p>“Desk’s on the right, with two chairs in front, file cabinets behind it.  And to the right of the file cabinets, on the back wall, is your door into my lounge.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “I have such a thing?”</p><p>“You know,” Noct said, his voice casual.  “In case there’s an emergency and I need you.”</p><p>A wry smile tugged at Ignis’s lips as he turned in the direction of the desk.  “I don’t think the sort of <em>emergencies</em> you’re suggesting are quite what the designers had in mind.”</p><p>Noct made a soft, amused sound.</p><p>Ignis found the chairs first and then the desk, letting his fingers trail over smooth, polished wood as he walked around behind it. </p><p>Noct joined him, staying on the other side.  “Natalie sourced all of the equipment.  I tried stuff out to make sure it works, but I don’t know what you prefer, so.”  He paused, probably shrugging.  “Anything you need, if it exists, she can get it.”</p><p>“Thank you, Noct.”  Ignis sat down in the leather desk chair, reaching out to find the intercom—appropriately labeled—and keyboard in front of him.  There was also a tablet, monitor, and a phone, and a small case that turned out to be earbuds.  He smiled.  “I feel rather well equipped.  I’ll be sure to let Ms. Natalie know if there is anything else I’ll require.”</p><p>“I’ll let you get settled in,” Noct said, coming around to lean against the desk on Ignis’s right.  “Just…  One thing.”  His voice grew solemn.  “Top drawer, on the left.”</p><p>Ignis opened the indicated drawer and felt inside…he found a box the width and height of his palm.  It didn’t weigh much as he took it out and placed it on the desk in front of him.</p><p>“When we first opened the wing…nothing had been disturbed since the signing.”</p><p><em>Ah</em>.  Ignis opened the box.  Inside, his fingertips traced a wristwatch and a familiar insignia pin—both were his uncle’s.  He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.</p><p>“We had a ceremony at the beginning of December.  For everyone, I mean, lost during the Fall and during the Night.  Luna spoke—I’ll send you the recording.”  Noct paused, and when he continued, his words were hesitant, a bit more raw.  “They asked if I wanted to wait, but I didn’t know how long…”  He trailed off, as if struggling with himself.  “We went ahead with the burial.  I kept these for you.  He…he’s in the royal cemetery.  With the other attendants.  I thought it would be appropriate.”</p><p>Even though his uncle was not of the royal line or even one of the noble houses.  It was a tremendous honor for a member of Ignis’s family.  He reached out, finding Noct’s arm and from there, his hand.  “Thank you, Noct,” Ignis said, squeezing tightly and tilting his face up towards his king’s.  “This means a great deal to me.”</p><p>Noct let out a heavy breath, squeezing back.  “When you want to go, I’ll take you there.  Just let me know.”</p><p>“I shall.”  He let his thumb drift over the pin once more.</p><p>They stayed that way for another minute, then Ignis gently loosened his grasp on Noct’s hand.  Noct touched his shoulder briefly and then withdrew, his steps crossing Ignis’s office, the door on the left wall opening and closing.</p><p>This was an old loss, old pain.  His uncle had been gone a decade.  Ignis had mourned him, in his own way, after the Fall, knowing what it meant when there was no word—quietly accepting his uncle’s death as he persisted in his duties.  They’d all lost family that day. </p><p>Ignis was no stranger to grief.  His parents had been taken by the Scourge when he was very young.  But from the time his uncle brought him to the Citadel, from when King Regis had introduced him to the young Prince Noctis, he’d never felt alone.  Ignis closed the box, returning it to the drawer.  It was a thoughtful gesture, yet Noct had truly sounded conflicted over his decisions, warring with himself when there was no <em>perfect</em> answer, just some that were better than others.</p><p>Noct had always cared for him like this, from the start.  Ignis’s love and devotion were not any sort of mystery, at least not to him.</p><p>-x-</p><p>He only spent half a day in the office, still tiring too easily to work much longer, plus Noct insisted that he rest.  After lunch in the mess hall with the others, Ignis napped, and later listened to the recording that Noct had emailed.  He tried to imagine what it looked like, the moment the Oracle placed the crown in Noct’s hair and gave him to Lucis as king.  The thought stayed with him for the rest of the afternoon and evening.</p><p>Gladio stopped by to drop off his freshly-honed razor, courtesy of Cid and Cindy, and Ignis <em>finally</em> got a chance to properly shave, his bottle of aftershave having mysteriously returned to his bathroom sometime while he slept.  He felt like himself again, appropriately groomed, even if Noct hummed a little disappointedly as he ran his fingers along Ignis’s jawline, once they were alone again.</p><p>“You’d rather me be rugged?” Ignis asked.</p><p>They were dressed for bed, silk over the heat of skin where their bodies touched, with Ignis leaning back against a stack of pillows and Noct straddling his thighs.</p><p>“Just…caught me off guard, I guess,” Noct murmured, his knees denting the mattress to either side of Ignis’s hips as he leaned in to press featherlight kisses along Ignis’s jaw…his lips gradually sliding down to the smooth skin underneath.  His fingertips traced Ignis’s necklace.  “Since I’m used to seeing you so perfectly put together.”</p><p>“Hmph.”  Ignis tilted his head to the side, allowing Noct better access, his arms loosely circling his king’s waist.  A pleasured sigh escaped his throat and he felt Noct smile against his skin.</p><p>“I’ll admit,” Noct said, face buried in his neck.  “Right then I <em>really</em> wanted you to push me down on the desk and, you know…” he lowered his voice to a muffled whisper, “…do things to me.”</p><p>The muscles in Ignis’s abdomen clenched pleasantly.  “Oh my, in the midst of all of those ‘sticky notes?’”  Though the thought did carry a certain kind of appeal, pinning Noctis on top of his idea of <em>organization.</em></p><p>Noct groaned—embarrassed—and drew back, resting more of his weight on Ignis’s thighs.  “Not gonna let that go, huh?”</p><p>Ignis smiled.  “Not until you’ve learned your lesson.”  He ran his hands up Noct’s back—savoring Noct’s resultant shiver and sigh—and buried his hands in his king’s hair.  “And can keep a tidy desk like a proper king.”  His fingertips traced the ridge behind Noct’s right ear, where the crown sat all day.  “I wish I could’ve been there,” he whispered, letting a wistful breath fall from his lips.  “I wish I could’ve seen it, that day.”</p><p>“I wanted you there,” Noct said, his arms wrapping Ignis’s shoulders tightly.  “The whole time, I kept looking for you.”  He angled his head, pressing into Ignis’s touch.  “Expecting you to be there, by my side.”</p><p>Ignis felt a soft pang.  He leaned forward, fitting their lips together for a brief kiss.  “I’m not upset, Noct,” he said, pulling back just enough for Noct to see his face.  “I would be, had you delayed everything solely on my account.”</p><p>“I know.”  There was the sound of a smile in his voice.  “Gladio said that, too.”</p><p>Ignis drew his hand down the side of Noct’s face, letting his thumb trace over Noct’s lower lip.  “A small price to pay for here and now,” he whispered and kissed Noct again.</p><p>He kept it languid and slow, coaxing Noct’s lips apart and sighing along with his king when Noct let him in.  It was a gentle simmer of heat, the melding of mouths and tongues as they held each other, as Noct pressed closer to him, careful not to put any pressure or weight on his chest.  The temptation was there—to push Noct down onto his back on the bed, to discover what kinds of sounds he’d make as Ignis traced his collarbone with his lips and tongue, or slipped his hands under his shirt and kissed a path to his bellybutton.  But <em>two weeks</em>, the doctor said, if all went well, if he <em>rested</em> like he was supposed to.  Easier said than done, with Noct on his lap making soft <em>breathy</em> noises into their kiss, hands curling into Ignis’s pajama shirt and into his hair.</p><p>It was far too soon when breathlessness turned to pain and Ignis had to pull away, drawing air into his lungs and trying to keep his discomfort from showing.</p><p>Noct slid off his lap and down to the bed next to him, slipping an arm around his waist.</p><p>Ignis allowed the worst of the pain to subside before he tried to speak.  “Apologies.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “I told you not to say ‘sorry.’”</p><p>Still, there were <em>options</em>…  “I could, at least—”</p><p>“Nn.”  Noct shook his head, his hair brushing Ignis’s arm.  “When you’re better, Specs.”  His other hand prodded the stack of pillows.  “Come down here and let’s go to sleep.”  Noct stifled a yawn.  “Early meetings.”</p><p>Ignis let Noct help him rearrange the pillows, then settled as comfortably as he could on his back with Noct curled up against him.  “I must have a talk with whomever scheduled all of these ridiculously early meetings for you.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct snuggled in.  “I’mma have my advisor straighten all that out.”</p><p>“No meetings before nine.”</p><p>“<em>Perfect</em>.”</p><p>Ignis smiled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>M.E. 767, March 20<sup>th</sup></em>
</p><p>It was a gorgeously temperate day—crisp air and sunshine, the heat of the latter playing on Ignis’s face in contrast to the chill of late winter on the cusp of spring.  He hadn’t ventured far outside the Citadel in the last week and a half—though he felt stronger each day, he still winded easily and that kept him close to home.  His sole excursion was yesterday, accompanying Noct on a brief trip to the western power substation to visit the EXINERIS team that operated the facility.  Unfortunately, he ended up sleeping most of the rest of the day, which only served to concern Noctis, despite Ignis’s assurances—and the doctor’s—that he was fine and mending per schedule.  It just wasn’t as swiftly as either of them would’ve liked.</p><p>But he made sure to take it easy this morning so that he could be at Noct’s side to properly greet their guests.  There was a bit of a breeze at the base of the Citadel steps, carrying the scent of the city thawing out and the anticipation of warmer weather.  It was a relief, really.  Some had feared that the cooling from the loss of the meteor would have a more permanent wintering effect on the continent.  But though their meteorologists had scrambled to update their models, mid-March temperatures were thus far following predictions and steadily rising.  It was one of the ‘hot’ topics on the virtual priority board they’d established in the administrative complex and three times a week, they had a conference call between the meteorologists and the leaders of the farm cooperatives, to give the latter the best information regarding when to sow their fields and transplant the seedlings started indoors.  The coming grow season was vital for Lucis, even as Accordo and Tenebrae continued to make steady agricultural progress.  Shipping times remained the impediment to Lucis importing fresh produce, but there was a task force forming to study the issue and it was a main focus area for the current summit between Lucis and Tenebrae.</p><p><em>Summit</em> was a generous term to describe the rather short-fused organization of various meetings in the forthcoming weeks.  But it generated the media buzz Ignis had hoped for and the more the summit made the front page, the less time and attention was devoted to the rumors swirling around the internet about Lady Lunafreya’s return to Insomnia.  And if not, well, he had other cards to play.</p><p>Ignis heard the convoy of vehicles in the distance before they were announced—</p><p>“Oh God, <em>finally</em>!”</p><p>—by Prompto.</p><p>“This is a <em>visit of state</em>,” Ignis said, glaring to his left in Prompto’s direction.  “And need I remind you, we represent the <em>Crown</em> of Lucis.”  He faced forward once more, hands clasped at the small of his back.</p><p>Prompto chuckled.  “I really missed you, Iggy.”</p><p>Ignis smothered a sigh.</p><p>“Better listen to my chamberlain,” Noct said, just to Ignis’s right.  “He can fire you, you know.”</p><p>“Wahhh, <em>Noct</em>!”</p><p>Ignis didn’t actually believe he had that power, but he appreciated Noct’s backing nonetheless.</p><p>There was the sound of the gate opening, then the vehicles passed through into the circular drive.  Ignis counted four distinct rumbles—three larger vehicles plus the quieter sedan, second from the front of the line, as expected.  The convoy pulled up to the curb and stopped, and Ignis listened as Prompto and Iris approached the lead vehicles while he and Gladio remained behind, flanking the King of Lucis.</p><p>Noct was wearing one of his finest suits today and while Ignis couldn’t see it, he had run his hands over nearly every seam to appreciate the perfection that was his king outfitted in such regal attire.  All with the aim of ensuring his sovereign was appropriately dressed for the occasion, of course.  Anything he’d gained from the moment, in terms of kisses and Noct’s hitched breaths, was purely <em>coincidental</em> in nature.</p><p>Car doors opened at the curb.  “Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Iris said.</p><p>“Thank you kindly, Lady Iris.  It’s wonderful to see you again.”  The Oracle’s voice was warmer and richer in person; the recordings and radio broadcasts truly did not do her justice.</p><p>Footfalls approached, multiple pairs, the click of heels on concrete distinct from the sound of crownsguard boots.</p><p>It wasn’t nerves that Ignis felt—not exactly.  Instead, he was filled with a sense of the <em>gravity</em> of the moment, the anticipation of a meeting and conversation a decade in the making.</p><p>“<em>Noctis</em>.”  There was clear fondness in Lady Lunafreya’s voice; Ignis didn’t need sight to imagine the brilliance of her smile. </p><p>“<em>Luna</em>.”  Noctis breathed out as though the weight of the world tumbled from his shoulders.  There was a clasp—of hands, Ignis supposed; it didn’t sound like quite enough to be an embrace.  “It’s so good to see you.”</p><p>“And you,” Lunafreya said.  Her heels clicked as she turned and Ignis felt the weight—and warmth—of her gaze.  “Master Ignis, at long last.”</p><p>Ignis bowed formally to her.  “Your Highness.”  Upon straightening, he extended his hand, which she grasped in both of her own.  “It is an honor to meet you.”</p><p>“The honor is mine, I assure you.”  She did not let go.  “Noctis, may I borrow your chamberlain for the next short while?”</p><p>“Of course,” Noct said.</p><p>“Might I ask your arm, Master Ignis?”</p><p>Ignis turned and offered it to her, inclining his head.  “Your Highness.”</p><p>Lunafreya’s hands wrapped around his elbow.  Her perfume was the scent of sylleblossoms, light and fragrant.  “Would you be amenable to a walk?” she asked.  “Perhaps in the gardens?”</p><p>“That sounds lovely.  Shall we?”</p><p>“Please.”</p><p>He guided her up the Citadel steps, perhaps a bit more slowly than he would have, normally, but at least he wasn’t winded when they reached the top.  Two of Lunafreya’s aides and Lady Iris followed.  They crossed the Citadel foyer and headed to the elevator where Ignis pressed the button to summon the lift.  The five of them boarded when it arrived.</p><p>“And how was your voyage, Your Highness?” he asked, selecting the button for the 21<sup>st</sup> floor.</p><p>“Long, but pleasant,” she said.  “I find journeying by sea to be rather invigorating, with the wind and the salty, ocean air.  Not like being stuck in a train or onboard an airship.”</p><p>Ignis smiled.  “Indeed.  Yet here we are, attempting to build a <em>new</em> airship to replace the old ones.”</p><p>“Well, the convenience cannot be overstated, I suppose.”</p><p>They exited on the 21<sup>st</sup> floor and Ignis led the way to the gardens. </p><p>Lunafreya paused just before the door.  “My aides will remain here.  In your care, Lady Iris, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Of course, Your Highness,” Iris said.</p><p>Ignis opened the door and held it while Lunafreya went through.  She took his arm again and the two of them, alone, proceeded into the rooftop gardens.  Noct told him about the time he and Lunafreya spent here, the work they’d done in the early weeks while Ignis and the others slept.  It was difficult for him to picture what it must look like now, given Ignis’s countless memories of the manicured gardens, resplendent with flowers from when he and Noct were children.  Noct always wanted to hide in the bushes or behind the fountain, despite the fact that there were much better hiding places inside the Citadel corridors.  He’d only been here briefly since awakening, on a stroll after lunch one day when Noct wanted to see if anything was growing.  They had recently restored the irrigation system and turned on a few of the fountains, with Insomnia’s water supply stable once more.  It was a bit indulgent, perhaps, but Ignis agreed that the quiet trickle of water in the background was soothing and, really, morale was a priority.</p><p>“Oh, things <em>are</em> coming back,” Lunafreya said, drawing him towards one of the flowerbeds.  “How wonderful.”</p><p>Ignis inhaled the scent of fresh greenery.  “A credit to your hard work, Your Highness, alongside His Majesty.”</p><p>“Call me Lunafreya,” she said.  “You and I are beyond titles, I think.”</p><p>Ignis inclined his head.  “Lunafreya, if you would permit me to—”</p><p>“A moment,” she said, guiding him farther down the path, away from the entrance.  When they had rounded a corner, she stopped and faced him.  “You’re still on the mend, I hear.”  From Noctis, no doubt.  “Please, allow me to do what I can.”</p><p>Since refusing help from the Oracle seemed arrogant on multiple levels, Ignis obligingly bowed his head, closing his eyes as her warm hands lightly cupped his face.  He followed her touch downward until her forehead was gently pressed to his.</p><p>“Blessed stars of life and light—”</p><p>Ignis saw <em>gold</em>—softly glowing light that filled the darkness of his vision—and a heat suffused into his frame from the top of his head down to his feet.  It was a phenomenal sensation, unlike anything he’d ever felt from Noct’s magic.  Because this wasn’t Astral magic, it was Providence—the very source and sustenance of life being poured into his body.  It filled him to the brim, spilling over even, and he gasped, overwhelmed—  And then—just before it was too much—the power and the light gently faded, leaving behind a lingering sweetness and the knowledge that he’d touched something vast and divine.</p><p>Lunafreya withdrew her hands, allowing him to straighten up.  “How do you feel, Ignis?”</p><p>For the first time in weeks, he could breathe without pain—drawing air all the way down to the base of his lungs without the sharp drag of knives throughout his chest.  “I feel…incredible, thank you.”  Ignis took another breath and exhaled, amazed at the lack of discomfort.  “I am in your debt, Lunafreya.  In more ways than one.”</p><p>“There is no debt,” she said, wrapping her hands around his elbow again.  “The outflow is strongest to those who believe.”</p><p>His lips parted around a question he could not yet seem to ask.  They began to walk again, slowly, her heels clicking alongside his boots on the flagstone path.</p><p>“I must thank you,” Lunafreya said.  “For receiving my message.”</p><p>“Pryna’s vision,” Ignis said—a confirmation, not a question.</p><p>“Yes.  Someone needed to know and—I hope you’ll pardon me for saying this—I knew you would have eyes to see what others could not.”</p><p>Ignis bowed his head.  “I am honored to have been entrusted with such a task.”</p><p>“<em>Information</em> is all I provided.  <em>You’re</em> the master Strategist.”</p><p>“I…”  Ignis stopped walking, shaking his head.  “Surely, Providence…”</p><p>“You prayed for another way.  Providence may have given you eyes to see it, but it was your choice to ask and to walk in it.”</p><p>Ignis felt a surge of emotion, swelling to fill his chest.  Who was he that Providence should deign to hear him?  He was just a man, desperate and in love.  “I only did…”  He turned his head away as moisture stung his eyes.  “I only did what I couldn’t not do.”  He would’ve sooner been shredded to pieces, burned to ash than <em>not</em> reach out that night, grabbing Noct’s arm in the rain. </p><p>Lunafreya took his hand—his left—and held it between her own.  Her fingertips pressed against the base of his middle finger, where he’d worn the ring.  “Ignis Scientia, your heart is a reckless wildfire, an incandescent star.  It was <em>this fire</em> that saved his life, that sustained him all these months while you slept.”  She clasped his hand firmly.  “Don’t ever stifle it.”</p><p>Her words poured into him not unlike her magic, only instead of healing, they imparted <em>truth</em>—the essence of him written on his soul.  Something in his chest loosened—some errant bit of dread or anxiety he carried vanishing, peace left in its place.  Ignis nodded, unable to speak, blinking behind his visor in a vain attempt to quell the threatening tears.  It took him a moment to recover, and he was grateful when she released his hand, allowing him to pull his handkerchief from his pocket and dry his eyes.  At length, he composed himself once more.  “Thank you, Lunafreya.”</p><p>“You are ever so welcome, Ignis,” she said, and he did not have to see to know that she was smiling.  “Now then, I did rudely interrupt your question before.”</p><p>Heat crept into his face.  It almost seemed superfluous, asking the <em>Oracle</em> such questions.  Ignis adjusted his visor.  “Forgive me.  I merely wished to hear it from you—your thoughts on this business of betrothal that you and Noctis have discussed.”</p><p>“This falls under the part about ‘stifling,’ you know.  Moreover, you are not the only one who prayed.”</p><p><em>Noct</em>.  Ignis swallowed hard.  “All the same,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.</p><p>Lunafreya hummed quietly.  “How shall I explain it?  My heart beats for all of Eos—for every life past, present, and future.  <em>Your </em>heart beats for him.”  She paused, a warm lilt entering her voice.  “Between the two of us, I’d say that about covers it, don’t you?”</p><p>A thought occurred to him, the inklings he’d had before finally resolving into something he could put into words.  “During your address, at the coronation…  You called yourself a <em>Messenger</em> of Providence.”</p><p>“I did!  And would you know, so very <em>few</em> people believe me.”</p><p>As he suspected.  Ignis bowed deeply to her and smiled.  “I am pleased and humbled to meet the <em>Hand of Providence</em> in the flesh.”</p><p>“And I to you,” she said, “Hand of the King.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Ignis felt light on his feet for the rest of the day.  He didn’t tire and he accomplished his breathing exercises without difficulty or pain.  Though he didn’t get a moment alone with Noctis, he didn’t mind—there were still many last-minute preparations to be made for the meetings tomorrow and he worked with their staff after dinner to ensure everything was ready.  Noct had gone to the gardens with Lunafreya and he absolutely was not going to intrude on their time together, knowing how important it was to Noctis, and to Lunafreya as well.</p><p>That night, Ignis fell asleep pleasantly and awoke refreshed the next morning.  He was alone in bed, but that wasn’t a surprise.  Sometimes their late nights and early mornings didn’t align and it was simply easier to return to their adjacent apartments rather than risk waking the other.  Ignis shaved, clipped on his chest brace, and got dressed, heading downstairs to the infirmary for his regular checkup.</p><p>“Huh,” the doctor said, after she’d examined him.</p><p>That was new.  Ignis arched a brow.  “Is that your professional opinion?”</p><p>The doctor laughed.  “I guess it is.  Is this really the same chest you brought me two days ago?”</p><p>“Last I checked,” he said.</p><p>“I can’t find anything wrong.  The scarring’s still there, but all of your internals are clean and clear.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re the recipient of another miracle, Master Ignis.”</p><p><em>Ah.</em>  Ignis pressed his lips, nearly smiling.  “Courtesy of Her Highness.”</p><p>“I see.”  The doctor tapped his arm.  “You can get dressed.  No need to wear the brace any longer and I see no reason to restrict your activity levels.  If anything changes, let me know.  Otherwise, I do hope I won’t see you back in my infirmary anytime soon.”</p><p>“Likewise, Doctor,” Ignis said.  “My thanks.”</p><p>Ignis was in his office with a couple members of their staff when Noct breezed in through the adjacent door.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“Majesty,” Ignis said.</p><p>“Good morning, Your Majesty.”</p><p>“‘Morning.”</p><p>The staff members quickly exited the room.</p><p>“Sorry,” Noct said, still moving.  “Could we…?”</p><p>Ignis stifled a sigh, following his king to the lounge and closing the door behind him.  As soon as the latch clicked, Noct was touching him, rising up to kiss him gently but earnestly on the lips.  Ignis had <em>reluctantly</em> agreed that some kissing be permissible in the lounge.  It was his compromise for mornings when he got up while Noct still slept, or when they spent the night apart, because Noct inevitably <em>needed</em> physical contact of some sort with him as soon as practically possible and otherwise, Ignis <em>would</em> get tackled at his desk.  This was the only way around it.</p><p>And truly, the first light press of Noct’s lips awakened all of his own longings, and made him realize how much he’d missed Noctis the night before.  So he kissed Noct back with equal eagerness, letting a sigh fall from his lips when they eventually parted.</p><p>“Sorry,” Noct whispered, staying in the circle of his arms.  “Got kinda late last night when I was talking with Luna.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” Ignis said, leaning down to claim a chaste kiss from Noct’s lips.  “I don’t begrudge you any of the time you spend with her.  She’s only here these few weeks.”</p><p>“Thanks, Specs.”  Noct exhaled, breath warm against his skin.  “I might hang out with her again tonight, if that’s OK.  But I’ll try to be back early enough to come to bed with you.”</p><p>“That’s fine, Noct,” he said, letting his fingers trace the tines of the crown in his king’s hair.  Ignis smiled, content.</p><p>It only occurred to him as they were sitting down in the first meeting of the Lucis-Tenebrae Transportation Summit that he’d forgotten to tell Noctis about his healed chest and the doctor’s clearance.  As far as Noct knew, he still had at least four more days of physical restrictions.</p><p>Well, in due time.  He didn’t want to distract Noct from his duties, necessarily.  Ignis rather <em>enjoyed</em> running meetings with him, after all.</p><p>“Good morning, everyone,” he said, the remaining chatter around the conference room table dying down.  “And welcome to the first ever Transportation Summit between Lucis and Tenebrae, with the best minds in engineering from both our nations gathered here as we seek to reconnect the world.”  Ignis paused for effect, letting that sink in among the attendees.  “My name is Ignis Scientia, I am the chamberlain of the King of Lucis, who is our esteemed host for this summit.  On behalf of the Crown, we welcome Her Highness, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, and all of our honored guests from Tenebrae.”  He bowed his head in Lunafreya’s direction before continuing.</p><p>“First off, a few housekeeping items.  We will be taking breaks according to the schedule in front of you.  All of the presentations and discussions today will be recorded as you’ve previously been advised; Presenters, remember to state your name at the beginning of your introduction.  The microphones are a bit sensitive, so a reminder for everyone to please keep side conversations to a minimum.”  Ignis turned to his left.  “Your Majesty, any opening remarks?”</p><p>“Thanks, Ignis,” Noct said from the head of the table.  “I think you’ve covered it.  Looking forward to the presentations today.”  There was a soft tap of pen to paper.  “Your Highness?”</p><p>“I’m so very excited to have everyone here,” Lunafreya said from Noct’s left, “and eager to get started.  Back to you, Master Ignis.”</p><p>Ignis did not let it show, but inwardly he was just about bursting with pride.  He moved his fingers down a line on the page in front of him.  “Without further ado, if you’ll turn to the agenda.”  There was an answering rustle of paper at the table.  “Our first presentation this morning—”</p><p>-x-</p><p>“Your guy runs a good meeting, Majesty,” Aranea said, taking a seat across from him and Noctis at lunch.</p><p>“So <em>long</em>, though.”  Prompto was with her.  “Ugh.” </p><p>Ignis frowned.  “I scheduled sufficient breaks for the optimal attention span.”</p><p>Gladio chuckled from farther down the table.  “Maybe not for his five-year-old brain.”</p><p>“Hey!  Pretty sure I caught you dozing off in the back, big guy.”</p><p><em>Oh dear</em>.  Ignis sighed.  “I may have to revise the schedule.  Or have more coffee brought in.”</p><p>Noct hummed with amusement beside him.</p><p>“So, Sleeping Beauty,” Aranea said, “Prince Charming here finally kissed you awake, huh?”</p><p>And Noct promptly choked on whatever it was he was drinking.  It was a good thing they were in a <em>private</em> dining hall, reserved just for them.</p><p>“As I was asleep, I’m afraid I cannot answer your question,” Ignis said.</p><p>Noct finished coughing, his arm brushing Ignis’s as he grabbed his napkin.  “I did <em>not</em>.”</p><p>“It was mostly…whining and hand holding,” Gladio said.  “From what I could tell.”</p><p>“<em>Thanks</em>, Gladio.”</p><p>
  <em>Oh, Noct.</em>
</p><p>“It was hope,” Lunafreya said from Noct’s other side.  “Unwavering hope, the like that brought Noctis back from the Crystal to all of you.”</p><p>Ignis felt his chest expand as he soaked up her words.  No one at the table dared try to offer a better explanation.</p><p>“<em>And</em>, mic drop,” Prompto said.</p><p>“Nice, Shortie.”  There was a thud that was probably Aranea affectionately punching him in the arm.</p><p>“You, uh, do know he’s taller than you,” Noct said.</p><p>Aranea’s chair creaked as she, presumably, leaned back in it.  “Not when I’m in my heels, he’s not.”</p><p>As Prompto sputtered with embarrassment, Ignis suppressed a smile, returning to his lunch.</p><p>-x-</p><p>That evening, Ignis ensured all of the materials were ready for the next day’s breakout sessions before returning to his apartment.  He hadn’t yet heard from Noctis, so he wound down with a hot shower, pleasantly exhausted, and dressed for bed.  It was still quite the novelty, being pain-free.  Not once all day had he needed to excuse himself due to the fatigue of simply breathing.  He was grateful to feel like himself again. </p><p>Ignis would have liked to share the news—and perhaps more—with Noct, but he was steadfast in his resolve not to interrupt his king’s time with Lady Lunafreya and it had been a full day, besides.  With still no messages after he’d finished brushing his teeth and come back to the bedroom, Ignis resigned himself to going to bed alone.  He needed to be up early in the morning, anyway.</p><p>He climbed into bed and stretched out, luxuriating in the feel of fine linens—a creature comfort he’d missed on the road and during the Night.  Ignis had just about drifted off when the intercom chimed.</p><p>“Specs, you still awake?”</p><p>“If I wasn’t, I am now,” he muttered, reaching over to buzz Noct in.</p><p>Ignis did not get up, listening to the distant sound of the entry door, Noct’s footsteps coming down the hall, and then the bedroom door opening and closing.</p><p>Noct puttered around briefly—there was a soft <em>shush</em> of clothing—then he drew the covers back and slipped into bed.  “Sorry it’s late.”</p><p>“It’s alright,” Ignis said.  “Come here.”</p><p>He opened his arms and Noct scooted over into them, their lips meeting in a brief kiss before Noct settled down, curled up against him in his usual place, his arm around Ignis’s waist.  Ignis sighed his contentment, enjoying Noct’s warmth and feeling loved.  It occurred to him, belatedly, that he no longer <em>had</em> to sleep on his back, but as he was drowsy and comfortable and snuggled up with his king, he was also disinclined to move.</p><p>He’d nearly fallen asleep when Noctis abruptly sat up, his hand moving over Ignis’s chest.</p><p>“Ignis!  Where’s your chest brace?”  He sounded worried—alarmed even.</p><p>“Hm?”  Ignis inhaled.  “That.  I returned it, seeing as the doctor says I’m no longer required to wear it.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I don’t think I should need to repeat myself, Noct.”</p><p>Noct exhaled, his voice coming out in a whisper—full of hope, but still anxious.  “You’re better then?”</p><p>“Thanks to Lady Lunafreya and Providence’s magic, yes, I have a clean bill of health.”</p><p>Noct fell quiet for a very long moment, though Ignis had no trouble guessing the thoughts running through his head, particularly as Noct’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. </p><p>“So <em>that</em> means…”</p><p>“Yes, we both know what that means,” Ignis said.  “But it’s late and I’m tired and we have important summit business first thing in the morning.  You’re welcome to sleep here if you will <em>sleep</em>.”</p><p>Noct lay back down and cuddled in, holding him tighter—a bit less cautiously—than before.  “<em>Huh</em>…”</p><p>Ignis pursed his lips.  “I would also request that you not cancel any evening plans you’ve made with Lady Lunafreya or any others.  We’ll have time, Noct.”</p><p>Noct shifted closer, kissing his cheek.  “Yeah.  No promises, Specs.”</p><p>He doubted they’d last three days.</p><p>-x-</p><p>The next morning, Ignis dressed in front of the wardrobe, feeling Noct’s gaze on him keenly the whole time.</p><p>“…When did you say you have to be downstairs?”  Noct hadn’t moved from the bed.</p><p>“Just under an hour, Noct,” Ignis said, fastening the buttons of his kingsglaive jacket.  “There isn’t enough time.”</p><p>“Are you sure about that?”</p><p>He arched a brow, turning in the direction of Noct’s voice.  “Are you suggesting we jump each other like hormonal teenagers?”</p><p>“Hmph.”  There was something wistful in the sound—a slight, bitter edge.  “Wouldn’t know what that’s like.”</p><p>Ignis relented, a few buttons left undone as he returned to the bed, sitting down and reaching for Noct.  He buried his hands in his king’s hair and kissed him, light and gentle.  “It’s not that I’m not amenable.  I simply…”</p><p>“Want things to be perfect,” Noct said, and Ignis could imagine the wry smile he was getting.</p><p>He exhaled—his king knew him too well.  “I want to do this right.  I don’t want to be rushed, I don’t want to be worried about where I’m supposed to be.  I want to be free to focus all of my energy and attention on you.” </p><p>Noct hummed and leaned in, kissing him.  “That does sound pretty good.”</p><p>Ignis smiled, shamelessly pleased.  “Well, then.  If I recall, you have plans with Prompto this evening.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said.  “Aranea’s gonna watch the kids.  He wouldn’t be mad if I rescheduled, though.”</p><p>“Nonsense.  He’s your best friend and spending time together is important.”</p><p>Noct chuckled.  “Can’t believe you’re having me prioritize guy-time over sex.”</p><p>“Simply a matter of keeping commitments,” Ignis said.  “We have the reception tomorrow evening.  And the night after that, I believe you made plans with Lady Lunafreya again, if I’m not mistaken.”</p><p>“<em>Yeah</em>…”</p><p>“So our first free evening ought to be three days from now, <em>conveniently</em> coinciding with the expected duration of my medical restrictions.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “<em>You’ve</em> been working late every night.  Don’t tell me you haven’t been trying to stay busy too.”</p><p>Ignis let his hand drift to Noct’s shoulder, feeling the heat of Noct’s skin through his silk pajama shirt.  “Guilty, I suppose.”  Perhaps he was being a bit too rigid.  “If you like, Noct.  There’s time at least that, for you, I could—”</p><p>“Nope.”  Noct gently pulled away and got off the bed.  “You promised me the moon and I want it.”  He took Ignis’s hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing.  “Just, if I’m distracted during the meetings today…  Well,” his voice warmed, teasing, “you’ll know <em>why</em>.”</p><p>Ignis, absently, wet his lips with his tongue.  “I’ll know why.”</p><p>-x-</p><p>At lunch, Ignis received a notification that this week’s shipment had arrived, so he went down to the mailroom to pick up the parcel of personal care items that he and Noct had ordered.  He was glad he’d thought to add a few things to the list in advance, as calling around at the last minute was likely to be an exercise in frustration, not to mention indiscretion, and he wanted to be prepared when he and Noct finally found an evening to themselves. </p><p>The clerk found the bag with his name on it—he never put Noct’s name on anything for privacy reasons—and passed it to him across the counter.</p><p>“Thank you.”  Ignis stepped aside and broke the seal, reaching into the bag to discretely run his fingertips over the labels the pharmacist had kindly added to all of the boxes.  Everything was accounted for, good.  He closed the bag, turning to leave the room.</p><p>“Hey Iggy!”  Prompto pressed up to the counter beside him.  “Uh, delivery for Prompto Argentum, please.”  Prompto elbowed him lightly while he waited.  “Figured I’d better rush down here before the taskmaster starts the next thing.”</p><p>Ignis frowned.  “I scheduled a suitable amount of time for lunch.  Generous even, I thought.”</p><p>“Here you are, Master Prompto,” the clerk said.  There was the crinkle of <em>several</em> paper bags.</p><p>“<em>Ugh</em>.  Kids, man.  They need so much <em>stuff</em>.”</p><p>“Would you like a hand, Prompto?” Ignis asked.</p><p>“That’d be great!”</p><p>Ignis took a couple of Prompto’s bags and they headed for the elevators, talking as they went.</p><p>“…And Aranea wanted a bunch of stuff, too, which I guess isn’t that surprising since Tenebrae’s still importing most things and there’s some stuff you can only get here.  Like this one kind of shampoo she apparently got hooked on while she was waiting for me to wake up.  I mean, it smells nice and I like it, but it’s just funny to see her be particular about things.”</p><p><em>Like her being particular about you</em>, Ignis thought but didn’t say, smiling to himself.</p><p>“And <em>Noct</em> asked me to get him a couple things, too, and that’s how it ends up being five huge bags—”</p><p>Ignis quirked a brow.  “Noct asked you?  I usually order for both of us.”</p><p>“Yeah, uh…”  Prompto smothered a chuckle.  “I guess he didn’t want you to know.  Yet, I mean.”</p><p><em>Hmm</em>.  Was it possible Noct had been thinking along the same lines?  Ignis could see why Noct might not have asked him to procure such items, not wanting to seem pushy or impatient for him to heal, but were Noct simply <em>embarrassed</em> it was quite unnecessary.</p><p>“Oh man, I should have <em>you</em> give it to him.  I’d just about die to see his face.”</p><p>That all but confirmed his suspicions and while teasing Noct definitely had a certain appeal, Ignis didn’t see a need to throw any more <em>fuel</em> on the fire, as it were.</p><p>“I think it’s best I don’t interrupt,” he said.  “You’ll see him tonight, after all.”</p><p>“Better heal up, Iggy.”  Prompto nudged him in the arm.  “I mean, I love King’s Knight and bad beer as much as the next guy, but…”</p><p>“Your concern is appreciated,” Ignis said, exhaling.</p><p>-x-</p><p>Ignis ended his evening work early and spent some time tidying up his apartment, just in case Noct happened to return at a decent hour.  He didn’t, and as the hours turned later, Ignis eventually gave up and went to bed alone.  He wasn’t surprised that Noctis didn’t join him that night.</p><p>Though he did find himself cornered in the king’s office lounge the next morning—pressed up against the wall with Noct kissing him not gently <em>at all</em>.</p><p>“<em>So</em>.  How long do we have to stay at the reception tonight?” Noct asked, during a rare break to catch their breath.</p><p>“You’re the king, Noct,” Ignis said, his lips feeling bruised as he smoothed his hands over the crests of Noct’s hip bones, the fine-grain leather of Noct’s belt warm against his palms.  “You’re expected to be there.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct kissed him again—on the mouth and then trailing down to his throat, lips against Ignis’s racing pulse.  “I’m the king.  I snuck out of my coronation reception and no one complained.”</p><p>“<em>Noct</em>.”</p><p>“To see <em>you</em>, by the way.”</p><p>Ignis exhaled, unable to respond to that.</p><p>Noct returned to his mouth, claiming another kiss—deep and insistent.  “We don’t have an early morning tomorrow.”</p><p>Ignis wrapped his arms around his king, holding Noct tight against him.  “I am aware.”  Secretly, he too was hoping they’d be done early and wouldn’t be prohibitively tired…  His patience, it seemed, was not what it should’ve been with Noctis involved.</p><p>…The day’s meetings ended in the early afternoon, giving everyone time to prepare for dinner.  Ignis showered and dressed in his apartment before going to see Noctis.  He was quite proud of the ensemble he’d been able to come up with, even though the evening was only semi-formal.  The suit was black, of course, and he’d enlisted Ms. Michela’s help to ensure each piece was of a coordinating black and not a subtle mismatch of shades, since he’d discovered she shared his sense for proper fashion.  The blazer was single-breasted while the waistcoat was double-breasted and low-cut, made from the same fabric.  Ignis paired this with a cotton-sateen dress shirt, suspenders attached to well-fitting slim-cut trousers, and a silk tie, with a gold tie clip and a gold collar bar with a thin loop of chain, and another set of delicate gold chains to drape between the left blazer pocket and left lapel.  He finished the outfit with polished black dress shoes.  Ignis knew he looked good and he hoped Noct would appreciate seeing him in something that wasn’t his uniform.</p><p>At Noct’s apartment door, Ignis touched the intercom.</p><p>Hardly seconds later the latch clicked, unlocking for him, and he went inside.</p><p>The layout of Noct’s apartment was identical—it just faced a different direction out of the tower—so Ignis had no problem finding his way to the bedroom.  He knocked lightly at the closed door.</p><p>“Yeah, come in, Specs.  I’m mostly dressed.”</p><p>Ignis opened the door and stepped into the room.</p><p>“Wow,” Noct said.  “That’s—  You look nice, Specs.”</p><p>Ignis smiled and told himself he wasn’t preening.  “You wanted help with something?”</p><p>“Yeah, this tie.”</p><p>He followed the sound of his king’s voice to the wardrobe and found Noct’s hands, and the rather intricate but odd knot of silk he was working on.  “What are you attempting to do?”</p><p>“An Eldredge knot.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  <em>Not going in for halves, are we?</em>  “Alright, allow me to…”  He moved behind Noctis—this was not the type of knot he could easily tie in reverse—and stepped in close, slipping his arms around his king and beginning to loosen the tie.</p><p>It took a bit of doing—Noct had gotten it nearly all the way there—but Ignis wasn’t complaining of course, breathing in the warm and somewhat <em>provocative</em> scent of Noct’s cologne as he worked.  Eventually, he had the knot completely undone and he resituated the tie around Noct’s neck, ensuring the proper side was up.  Part of Noct’s collar had dipped, so Ignis unfolded it again, standing it upright against Noct’s throat and, <em>oh</em>.  The dress shirt was a cotton-silk blend, luxuriously soft underneath his fingertips—a very fine choice.  But now was not the time to get distracted.  Ignis leaned in closer, Noct’s hair against his cheek as he smoothed the ends of the tie down Noct’s chest so he could ensure the wider side was appropriately longer than the other.</p><p>His hands brushed a waistcoat.  It wasn’t a plain waistcoat either, he felt <em>texture</em>.  Ignis paused…and his curiosity got the better of him.  <em>Not</em> breathing, he ran his hands slowly down Noct’s sides, feeling the delicate pattern of the fabric against his palms.  Then he moved his hands inward, finding the asymmetrical double-breasted closure, the fabric-covered buttons…  Ignis swallowed hard.  “Noct, are you…”  His chest pulsed with breath against Noct’s back.  “Are you wearing the black silk waistcoat with the gold jacquard?”</p><p>“That’s the one,” Noct said.</p><p>Ignis’s breath threaded out unevenly.  He knew the exact one—he’d <em>purchased</em> it—one day when he’d been feeling particularly desperate about his unrequited love.  “I…thought you didn’t care for it.”  His fingers traced the waistcoat’s low-cut, folded lapel.  “You never wore it.”</p><p>“I didn’t see the appeal before.  I do now.”</p><p>Ignis bit his lower lip.  He could picture it—the way Noct must look with the waistcoat hugging his sides, the black cotton-silk shirt underneath…the undone tie…with Ignis’s hands on him.  Just the right amount of <em>disheveled</em>, yet he also imagined how it would be with the Eldredge-knotted tie and whichever jacket Noct had picked to go over top…  His mouth went dry, his heart beating a rapid staccato in his chest—</p><p>“You gonna feel me up?  Or help me with the tie, Specs?”  Noct’s voice, warm and <em>knowing</em>, jolted him out of his fantasies.</p><p><em>Oh</em>, he’d been wrong.  This was not some innocent ask for help, not some sweet, nostalgic wardrobe choice on Noct’s part.  This was an all-out <em>attack</em>, a calculated seduction by his king to turn Ignis into jelly.  It was working.  All he wanted was the pleasure of dressing Noct for the sole purpose of <em>undressing</em> him and taking him to bed.  <em>Damn</em>.  His face heated.  There was no way Noct wasn’t smirking right now.</p><p>Ignis sucked in a breath and composed himself.  “Apologies.”  He returned his hands to the tie, his focus to the task, and worked with precision, not letting himself be sidetracked by the feel of Noct in his arms.  When he was done, Ignis stepped back, ever so conscious of the cool air between them and the sudden <em>lack</em> of their bodies touching.</p><p>“Thanks,” Noct said, Ignis listening to the sound of him donning his jacket.</p><p><em>Which one</em>, he longed to ask, yet he didn’t trust himself to speak, as fragile as his self-control felt.  Not with the bed but a few feet away…  Ignis drew a slow, inaudible breath to keep himself under control.</p><p>“Let me put on the collar bar.  Then you can check.”</p><p><em>Heavens</em>.  Noct in a collar bar on top of all the rest?  His king was <em>trying</em> to murder him, there was simply no other explanation. </p><p>“Alright,” Noct said eventually.  “Come here and tell me what you think.”</p><p>He bloody well would <em>not</em> be uttering such things.  Ignis stepped close, barely breathing, and laid his hands gently on Noct’s shoulders.  He felt the fine fabric of the jacket beneath his palms and its smooth, satiny lapel.  Drawing his hands inward, he found Noct’s crisply folded collar…and, <em>oh</em>, the collar bar right behind the knot he’d tied.  Ignis bit down on his lip.  He traced the tie with his thumbs—hands brushing down the front of Noct’s chest, following the tie to where Noct had tucked it into the waistcoat…and then the delicate jacquard was underneath his palms.  Holding his breath, Ignis spread his fingers, smoothing his hands to Noct’s sides beneath the jacket—</p><p>Noct caught his hands, lifting them to his lips and kissing them.  “I’m gonna be wearing this all night, Specs,” Noct said, Ignis feeling the piercing intensity of his gaze, “until you take it off me.”</p><p>Ignis gulped for air, nearly shaking, as Noct let him go.</p><p>…He barely tasted any of his dinner, nor the wine in his glass.  They’d opened one of the Citadel ballrooms for the event and Ignis remembered what it looked like with vaulted ceilings, the intricate metal work in the chandeliers and arched windows, the gold-veined black marble…  He simply couldn’t concentrate on anything save Noctis beside him and the distance between them…and the fact that they were at this damn reception, surrounded by people, instead of <em>alone</em>, doing all of the things Noct had prescribed for the rest of their evening.  The conversations and chatter at the table were not enough to distract him, though he could fake it well enough.  If he tried.  He wasn’t sure he cared to, was the thing.</p><p>Midway through the meal, Noct leaned over to him, their shoulders brushing.  “You haven’t eaten much.”</p><p>Ignis sipped his wine and set the glass down.  “Seems I’ve misplaced my appetite.”</p><p>“Huh.”  There was a smug, downright victorious streak in Noct’s voice.  “Is that so?”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips.  He canted his face very deliberately towards Noct’s and pitched his voice low.  “Not to worry, <em>Majesty</em>.  You’ll help me with it later, won’t you?”</p><p>Noct’s breath hitched and it was a satisfying taste of revenge, though not nearly <em>enough</em>, of course.  As he drew away, Ignis went back to calculating how early they could politely escape without causing an international incident.</p><p>There was mingling after dinner, more wine, and music.  –All things Ignis would have appreciated any other night.  And Noct seemed to be having a fine time with the others, talking and chatting regardless of the fact that he usually hated this sort of thing.  So Ignis decided to be his most vicious, charming self, working the room and enjoying himself as best he could while always keeping an ear open for the sound of Noct’s voice.</p><p>Gladio pulled him aside at one point.  “Did you two get in a fight?”</p><p>“What makes you say that?” Ignis asked.</p><p>He snorted.  “Dunno.  The way you two keep sniping looks at each other from across the room.  Er, you know what I mean.”</p><p><em>Quite the opposite, in fact</em>.  Ignis sighed.  “What time is it?”</p><p>“Just about eight-thirty.”</p><p>Still too early.</p><p>“You know, if your chest’s bothering you, you can go rest.  No one would even notice.  Jus’ saying.”</p><p>A tempting idea, though not one Ignis felt right taking advantage of.  Which was somewhat ironic, given that he never hesitated to make excuses for Noct when needed.  “I’m alright, but thank you.”</p><p>“If you say so.”  Gladio was quiet for a moment, then let out a soft groan.  “Alright, I gotta go deal with Iris getting drunk and trying to flirt with the Oracle.  See you later, Iggy.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “Good luck.”  He sipped from the wine glass he’d been nursing all evening.  At this point, he ought to find more people to network with—and do his damn job—but the quiet was also nice, a bit of a break by the windows where he could watch the shifting shadows across the room and imagine that one of them was Noct, fed up enough to whisk him away for the evening.</p><p>And footsteps approached, determined and familiar.  “I’m done, let’s go,” Noct said, taking a light hold of his arm.</p><p>Ignis’s stomach did a pleasant, eager flip.  “So soon, Majesty?”</p><p>Noct huffed.  “Finished with that?”</p><p>“Yes, I am.”  Ignis surrendered his partially full wine glass and let Noct lead him away, hoping no one would make note of the king’s hasty retreat with his chamberlain.</p><p>They paused by a quiet doorway.  “Monica, if anyone asks, I’m not to be disturbed for the rest of the night,” Noct said. </p><p>At least it wasn’t the marshal.  “Understood, Your Majesty,” Monica said.  “Good night.”</p><p>Ignis inclined his head to her as they passed.</p><p>Noct loosened his grip as they got out into the corridor, as they took a less-traveled path to get back to the northeast tower.  It wasn’t so unlike their bygone days, running from various obligations, escaping to different parts of the Citadel.  When they got to the lift, Noct jabbed the button.</p><p>“I’d congratulate you on a successful reception, but I don’t actually know how you did?” Ignis said, as they waited.</p><p>Noct exhaled.  “I was a wreck.”</p><p>For once, Ignis didn’t mind hearing that. </p><p>“Thank God for Luna, she can light up any room.  I just—”</p><p>The elevator arrived and they boarded.</p><p>Ignis felt the weight of Noct’s gaze, understanding implicitly what his king did not say.  <em>I need you; I need us</em>…  “I feel the same way,” he murmured, finding the appropriate button on the panel and pressing it.</p><p>As they stepped out on the 40<sup>th</sup> floor, all Noct said was, “Mine?”</p><p>Ignis could have argued that <em>his</em> place was tidy; he couldn’t be certain of the state of Noct’s apartment, having not spent enough time there to know.  But it was far too trivial a thing to argue about right now, so he nodded and followed Noct to his door.</p><p>Noct miskeyed the lock sequence the first time.  “Damnit,” he muttered.</p><p>“Take a deep breath, Noct,” Ignis said quietly.  <em>Slow down, relax…</em>  He appreciated the urgency, but he didn’t want the rush.  He wanted to savor their time together.</p><p>Noct inhaled, held it for a few seconds, then breathed out.  He keyed in the sequence again and Ignis heard the latch give way.  Then the door was open and Noct pulled him inside.</p><p>There were lips on his before the door ever closed—needy, pent-up, impatient.  Ignis stifled a groan by habit and wondered why he had.  There was no reason to, anymore.  He didn’t need to hold anything back with Noct.  So he took his king’s face in his hands and kissed him, tasting the remnants of wine on Noct’s tongue and allowing the moan that burned out of his throat.  It seemed to startle Noct, who gasped into his mouth and a second later pushed him against the wall of the entryway, hands tangling in his hair.  Heat gathered low in Ignis’s belly, his trousers already becoming uncomfortable.  No sense denying his eagerness.  It wasn’t just tonight that he’d wanted Noct, it was the culmination of days, weeks, and <em>years</em>.  He broke the kiss despite Noct’s groan of protest.</p><p>“Shoes,” Ignis said.  “Then I insist on the bedroom.”</p><p>Noct let out an unsteady breath.  “Yeah.”</p><p>They quickly pried off their dress shoes, then Noct had his hand, pulling him down the hall.</p><p>Once in the room, Noct loosened his hold.  “Bed, or…?”</p><p>“First things first.”  Ignis steered him towards the bathroom so they could wash their hands.</p><p>With that chore hastily completed, he considered how to calm things down a bit, otherwise it was all likely to be over before they got out of their clothes.  …Which wasn’t a horrible thought, per se, but also wasn’t what he had in mind for tonight.  “How’s the lighting, Noct?”</p><p>“Everything’s off.  Should I turn the lamp on?”</p><p>“How about the fireplace?  It works, doesn’t it?”</p><p>“Oh.”  Noct moved away from his side. </p><p>Ignis heard the flick of a switch and the soft whoosh of the flames.  <em>Better</em>.  He made his way to the sofa—which was in the same place as in his apartment—and was pleased to find that there wasn’t clothing or anything else draped on it.  Yet.  He sat down.  “Now, come here and let me enjoy undressing you.”</p><p>Noct’s breath came out in a rush.  He sat down next to Ignis on the couch, on his left, their knees brushing.</p><p>Ignis lifted his hands to his king’s face, smoothing his fingertips over Noct’s brow and cheeks and beard—the face he remembered from the Crystal and from his visions.  <em>Noct</em>, alive and whole and here with him.  “I love you,” he said, needing Noct to hear it.</p><p>“All ways?” Noct asked, with a little stutter of breath.</p><p>“All ways,” he said.</p><p>“I love you too, Iggy.”</p><p>Ignis punctuated that with a kiss—just a light one, then reached for the crown in Noct’s hair.  He carefully drew it free.  “Put this somewhere safe, would you?”</p><p>“Mm, yeah.”  Noct took it from him.  “Specs, can I?”  Noct’s fingertips brushed the edge of his face, the arm of his visor.</p><p>“Yes,” he said, blinking as Noct gently drew the visor from him and put things aside.  He still felt…self-conscious of the scarring, even if it was nothing Noct hadn’t seen many times before.</p><p>“Your eyes are so beautiful,” Noct whispered, his voice hushed.</p><p>And the bit of self-consciousness vanished.  Ignis relaxed, smiling.  “As I remember yours are,” he said, reaching out until he found the satiny lapels of Noct’s jacket.  “Now, let me…”  He slipped his hands underneath, pushing the jacket down Noct’s arms and reveling in the heat of Noct’s skin through the fine weave of his dress shirt.  As Noct freed himself from the jacket and threw it wherever he happened to throw it, Ignis went for the tie, thumbing the intricate Eldredge knot and pulling Noct in so he could kiss him while he slowly unraveled it, one loop at a time.</p><p>Though it was surprisingly hard to concentrate with Noct groaning into their kiss, tongue tangled eagerly with his.</p><p>Noct got his hands between them, shoving Ignis’s jacket <em>off</em>, down to his elbows.  It rather hindered what he was trying to do, so Ignis let go of Noct’s tie just long enough to slip his arms out of the sleeves, for once not caring that the jacket would get wrinkled.  It was tomorrow’s problem.  For now, with anticipation coiling hotly in his abdomen, Ignis finished unwinding the tie, leaving it hanging loosely around Noct’s neck as he went for the collar bar. </p><p>“This was just about the death of me, you know,” he muttered, as he unscrewed one of the ends and pulled the bar free.</p><p>Noct made an amused noise.  “Liked that, huh?  Thought you might.”</p><p>“<em>You</em>—” Ignis slipped the bar into the pocket of Noct’s waistcoat, “knew <em>exactly</em> what you were doing.”  He ducked his head beneath Noct’s jaw, playing his lips, dragging his teeth lightly over Noct’s skin as he worked the top button on Noct’s shirt undone.</p><p>Noct’s breath hitched.  He tilted his head back to give Ignis better access, hands going to Ignis’s tie.  “Just admit it.  You were being a little ridiculous yesterday, not letting me reschedule with Prompto.”</p><p>“No, no…”  Ignis said, sucking on a small patch of Noct’s skin, just over his racing pulse.  “No excuses.”  He soothed the spot with his tongue and undid another button.</p><p>Air hissed through Noct’s teeth.  “<em>Shit</em>, Specs.”  His hands momentarily stilled on Ignis’s tie, Noct’s moan vibrating in his throat against Ignis’s lips before he jumped back into action.</p><p>Ignis felt a tug at his neck.  His tie clip dropped onto his thigh and promptly tumbled off, ending up somewhere on the floor.  He gave it a split-second’s consideration before firmly deciding not to care—he’d just make Noct find it later.  Ignis slid his hand lower, thumbing another button apart, while Noct—his chest heaving under Ignis’s fingertips—finished loosening his tie and began working on the collar bar and chain beneath.</p><p>“There’s a clasp—”</p><p>“Yup,” Noct said, amused.  “Got it.”</p><p>Since his king clearly didn’t need help, Ignis turned his attention to Noct’s collarbone, licking and sucking and grazing it with his teeth, and shamelessly enjoyed the way Noct huffed and writhed underneath him.  With three buttons of Noct’s shirt open, he ran his hands down Noct’s sides to the waistcoat, spreading his fingers and gripping Noct’s waist with the delicate pattern of silk against his palms.  One of these days, he would ask Noct to leave it <em>on</em>.  Not tonight, though.</p><p>“I couldn’t believe you still had this,” he murmured against Noct’s skin, his fingers drifting inward towards the waistcoat’s buttons.  The muscles in Noct’s stomach clenched beneath his hands.</p><p>“I never got <em>rid</em> of it,” Noct said, his breaths thick.  “You gave it to me.”</p><p>The tightness at Ignis’s throat eased as Noct pulled the collar bar free; it, too, landed on the floor.  <em>Small sacrifices</em>.</p><p>“It was in the boxes packed up from my apartment.”  Noct went immediately for the buttons on the right side of Ignis’s waistcoat, slipping them free, sliding his hand underneath, under the straps of his suspenders.  His palm was blistering hot through the fine fabric of Ignis’s dress shirt.</p><p>And Ignis breathed out <em>hard</em>, emptying his lungs against Noct’s throat.  He was suddenly <em>very</em> disinterested in talking as Noct’s hands roamed his abdomen, making his muscles twitch and tighten.  Seized by the need for more contact, Ignis worked the buttons of the jacquard waistcoat one handed, wrapping his other arm around Noct’s waist, drawing him onto his lap—</p><p>Noct gasped, rocking and settling on his thighs.  “<em>Ignis</em>.”  Hands cupped Ignis’s face and Noct was pulling his head up, sinking down to suck greedy kisses from his mouth, Noct’s beard rough against his skin.</p><p><em>Oh Noct—</em>  Ignis groaned into Noct’s mouth, pushing the jacquard waistcoat open and unclipping the suspenders underneath.  He tugged Noct’s dress shirt free from his trousers and swiftly undid the rest of the buttons, finally getting his hands inside Noct’s shirt, palms grazing hot skin—</p><p>Until his fingers tripped over the scar down the center of Noct’s chest.  Ignis went absolutely still, feeling that thick line of smooth skin under his fingertips, as long as his hand.</p><p>Noctis noticed and broke the kiss, breathing out.  “It doesn’t hurt, you know,” he whispered.</p><p>“I know,” Ignis said, trembling a little.  He traced the scar that was supposed to take his king from the world, sucking in a heavy breath.  How close he’d come to losing Noct, to losing his everything.  If Providence hadn’t…  If there hadn’t been a way, if he hadn’t stopped Noct on the stairs…  The thought of what <em>almost</em> was made his head spin and Ignis had to close his eyes, resting his forehead on Noct’s shoulder for a moment.</p><p>Noct stroked his head, his hair, hands running in light caresses down his back.  “It’s OK,” he murmured, <em>knowing.</em>  “I’m OK.  I’m here with you.”</p><p>“Yes.”  Ignis breathed out raggedly.  “Yes, you are.”  He lifted his head and Noct’s hands cradled his face, brushing their lips together gently, chastely.  Ignis needed more.  He cupped his hand around the back of Noctis’s neck, pulling him down to a firm kiss that trapped their lips against their teeth. </p><p>Noct shook in his arms, groaning against him, and it was like the world suddenly snapped into motion.  As Ignis kissed Noct, gliding his tongue past Noct’s lips, drinking in Noct’s sighs and gasps and moans, nimble fingers worked the buttons down the front of Ignis’s shirt and popped the clips of his suspenders.  Cooler air hit Ignis’s skin, followed by the heat of Noct’s hands, raking fire across his nerves.</p><p>Noct’s thumb found the skull pendant at the base of his throat, curling around it for a moment before his touch slid lower.  His hand flattened against Ignis’s sternum—over his scar—and they broke apart, Ignis feeling the weight of Noct’s gaze on him.</p><p>“I never said thank you,” Noct murmured, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just to the side of the scar, making Ignis shiver pleasantly.</p><p>“Well.”  Ignis breathed in deeply, his chest rising and falling beneath Noct’s hand.  “You’re welcome to thank me now however you’d like.”</p><p>“<em>Hmph</em>.”  There was amusement in the sound and Noct gave a little push, Ignis falling backward, landing on his elbows against the sofa cushions, his inhale sharp as Noct moved down his body.  Lips touched his scar, Noct pressing a line of kisses from the top to the bottom of it.</p><p><em>Oh</em>…  Ignis let his head fall back.  Air threaded out between his lips, his lashes fluttering.</p><p>Noct’s arms wound tight around his waist.  He moved to the left side of Ignis’s chest, nuzzling and nipping, his beard scratchy against Ignis’s skin.  “Next time you wanna prove your love to me, though?  A little less <em>dying</em> involved.” </p><p>“King’s order?” Ignis asked, quaking with want, wondering if Noct could feel how fast his heart was beating.</p><p>“Yup,” Noct said, biting a little harder—not enough to break the skin, but perhaps enough to leave a mark.</p><p>Ignis felt a pleasant stinging sensation—sharp and real—as Noct sucked on that same patch of skin before leaving a kiss there.  He secretly hoped there would be something left behind, even though he wouldn’t see it, and even knowing it would fade.  Of all the marks on Ignis’s body for Noct’s sake, this one might be his favorite.  “I will endeavor to be a bit more versatile,” he murmured, “seeing that I now have an abundance of ways to demonstrate my affection for you.”</p><p>“<em>All</em> ways,” Noct said—demanded—shifting over him to capture Ignis’s lips in a bruising kiss, unwinding his arms to tug Ignis’s shirt from his shoulders.</p><p>Ignis groaned and pushed himself up, chasing Noct’s lips as they maneuvered, as they wrestled their shirts and waistcoats completely off and tossed them aside.  He was not surprised when Noct pinned him upright against the tufted velvet cushions, climbing on top to straddle his thighs—Noct seemed <em>determined</em> and Ignis was quite happy to oblige.  As long as Noct finally got a damn bit closer, that was.  He ran his hands down Noct’s back, not stopping to catalog any scars this time, and settled on Noct’s waist, coaxing…  The cushion shifted as Noct dug his knees in, hands clamped on Ignis’s shoulders as he slid forward all the way, right where Ignis wanted him.</p><p><em>Oh God</em>—  He shuddered—they both shuddered—gasping into each other’s mouths with their bodies flush and foreheads touching, their clothed erections straining and trapped between them.  Even expecting Noct to be aroused, it was still a head-trip to <em>feel</em> it, and to know that Noct could feel <em>him</em>.  It made Ignis harden even more.</p><p>“<em>Specs</em>—”  Noctis rocked against him, grinding their hips together, the glorious, heady friction offset by all the layers of fabric still in the way.</p><p>“<em>Noct</em>—”  Ignis’s chest heaved, his heart hammering behind his ribs as he slid his hands past the waistband of Noct’s trousers to grip his backside.  He pressed his feet to the floor, pushing with his hips, dragging Noct against him. </p><p>“Oh, <em>f</em>—”  Noct wrapped his arms tightly around him, burying his face in Ignis’s hair as they moved together.</p><p>It was good—<em>so</em> good, especially when Noct began to roll his hips in earnest—but still only a fraction of what it <em>could</em> be.  And the longer he allowed this, the harder it would be to do anything else.  With effort, Ignis stilled himself and Noct, feeling Noct’s head pop up in surprise.  He managed to slip a hand between them, working his way to the front of Noct’s trousers and thumbing the closure at the top.</p><p>Noct groaned and pulled away, getting to his feet.  “Specs, let me just—”</p><p>“Go ahead.”  Ignis slowly caught his breath, listening to the sound of Noct’s zipper and the rustle of fabric, wishing he could see the sight before him as Noctis stripped—naked and hard for him.  He shifted, exhaling, running his palms against the velvet cushions beneath him.  Clothing hit the floor and Noct returned, but only his hands at first—and hitched breath—as Noct picked at Ignis’s waistband, almost as if distracted.  By the tenting of his trousers perhaps?  By the wet spot that Ignis could feel against the fabric?</p><p>“You too,” Noct said, breathing out and dipping his fingers just inside the band. </p><p>Ignis’s stomach clenched—a hard bolt of arousal with Noct’s fingertips grazing the edge of his underwear.  At his nod, Noct made quick work of the fastenings and zipper underneath.  He lifted his hips to assist, Noct pulling until his trousers and underwear were shoved down past his knees and he could kick them to the floor.  With a deep breath, Ignis sat back, bared to Noctis’s scrutiny with his erection freed and leaking, a tremor of want and need and self-consciousness running through him.  He hadn’t been with anyone like this in a very long time—and not since the scarring, notably.  Did Noctis like what he saw?</p><p>“Oh <em>God</em>, Specs—”  Noct groaned, wanton, and Ignis’s chest loosened.</p><p>He reached out, and Noct immediately climbed into his arms—all fire and skin every place they touched.</p><p>Noct kissed him <em>hard</em>, then pressed their foreheads together, his head angled down—watching? Ignis guessed—as he shifted forward—</p><p>Until their hips were flush again and everything was <em>heat</em> and the feeling of Noct’s erection against his own.  “<em>Noct</em>—”  Ignis tipped his head back, chest pulsing with breath, hips pressing up of their own accord to grind against Noctis, seeking more.</p><p>Noct leaned heavily against him—burning, shaking, breathing.  “<em>Fuck</em>,” he whispered, and it made Ignis smile.</p><p>They kissed again—deep pushes of tongue with their arms locked around each other, the tiniest movements—glides of bare skin—yielding gasps that were muffled between their mouths.</p><p>Ignis broke away to breathe.  “May I touch you?” he asked, and Noct nodded against his cheek, his exhale ragged in Ignis’s left ear.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>With his left arm curled around Noct’s hips, Ignis shifted away just enough to get his right hand between them, running his palm along the inside of Noct’s thigh.  His lips parted as he felt muscles flex beneath his fingers…and then Noct stopped breathing entirely as his fingertips whispered over softer skin and threaded through coarse hair.  He came to the base of Noct’s erection, curling his thumb and forefinger around his shaft—</p><p>Noct jerked sharply, moaning, huffed breaths warm in Ignis’s hair.</p><p><em>Oh..</em>.  Ignis exhaled, tightening his arm around Noct’s waist so he could feel every twinge of Noct’s body.  He flattened his hand, gliding his palm along the underside, learning the shape of him, teasing upward to the dripping slit that made <em>him</em> twitch and groan along with Noct.  Still, he kept his touch light, determined not to rush, smoothing his hand down along the top—all the way and then reaching lower, cupping and testing Noct’s reaction.</p><p>“<em>Ignis</em>.”  Noct’s thighs trembled with impatience; he was almost panting in Ignis’s ear. </p><p>Perhaps he was being too selfish.  Ignis pushed forward, taking them both loosely in his grip, his soft moan drowned out by Noct’s louder one.  He stroked gently, experimentally, and thrilled when Noct began to thrust against him, stuttering, hesitant motions at first that quickly smoothed out into rhythm.</p><p><em>Six—</em>  Ignis leaned back with Noct moving over him, resting his head on the back of the couch as he groaned and let his hips roll in response, white-hot sparks of pleasure lighting off along his nerves.  There was something heady about having the <em>king</em> on his lap like this, on a centuries-old couch in front of a fire, even a fake one.  A bit of a power trip he would never mention.  “We stay here much longer…we’ll have to hope no one asks questions about the upholstery.”</p><p>Noct chuckled and kissed him—far too briefly.  When he lifted his mouth away, Ignis chased the contact, but then there were lips gliding along his jaw, followed by warm breath in his ear.  “Specs.  Want you in me.”</p><p>Ignis closed his eyes, the air shuddering out of him.  “Then we’d best move to the bed.”</p><p>Noct kissed him again—long and slow and deeply—then climbed off and grabbed his hand.</p><p>The bed was <em>made</em> even, though Ignis didn’t spend much time appreciating the fact as they slid between the sheets, all tangled limbs and skin, rolling a bit.  He ended up on his back with Noct reaching for things on the nightstand—not in drawers but right on top and accessible.  Truly, Noct had planned on seducing him tonight and Ignis wasn’t upset about it at all.</p><p>“How do you want me?” he asked, running his hands down his king’s back, luxuriating in the muscle and skin beneath his palms.</p><p>Noct shifted upright, sitting across his thighs.  “This work?”</p><p>“Yes, it will.”  Ignis smiled, smoothing his hands over Noct’s hips.  “Help me with the pillows.”</p><p>They stacked the pillows so that Ignis could recline, braced against the tufted leather headboard with Noct over him.  Leaning in, he kissed his way down Noct’s throat as he poured a bit of the lubricant Noct gave him into his hand and warmed it on his fingers.  “At any time, if you’d like me to stop, just say the word.”</p><p>Noct huffed into his hair, impatient.  “Yeah, Specs.”</p><p>Ignis reached between them, running his palm over Noct’s erection, causing his king to jerk and gasp above him.  He kept one hand there—light grasping touches—while he slid the other underneath, a questing graze of fingertips.  Noct shivered, but pressed down against him and forward, and Ignis took that as a sign to continue, applying a bit of pressure before he crooked a finger and eased his way inside to heat and the tight clench of muscles.  <em>Noct</em>.  His lips parted against Noct’s throat, the tremor running through both of them.</p><p>Harsher breaths hit Ignis’s hair, Noct gripping his shoulders.</p><p><em>Relax, my love</em>.  He gave Noct’s erection another stroke, long and unhurried, and gradually felt him loosen up.  Ignis closed his eyes, resting his head against Noct’s shoulder and breathing in the heat of his skin as he worked in slow, shallow penetrations until Noct seemed comfortable, then gently slid deeper…</p><p>Sheer determination alone kept him focused and steady.  Otherwise, his self-control was likely to unravel with Noct in his arms like this, shaking and surrendered to pleasure, with Noct’s erection leaking onto his stomach…  Ignis shifted, aching, conscious that he was fraying the slightest bit.</p><p>When he tried a second finger, Noct sucked air through his teeth…but the adjustment seemed easier this time and it wasn’t long before Ignis was as deep as he could go with Noct rocking between his hands.  He wished he could see what Noct looked like—what expression he wore with his head tipped back—</p><p>“<em>Specs</em>—”</p><p>It was enough, though, hearing the sweet abandon in Noct’s voice, the quiet demand for more.</p><p>Ignis scissored his fingers a bit, testing.  “Noct, I think—”</p><p>Noct’s breath came out in a rush.  He sat back, resting his weight on Ignis’s thighs, his hands slipping down to Ignis’s chest. </p><p>A little shove pushed Ignis against the pillows.  He didn’t even have time to blink before Noct slid his hands down and gripped him <em>firmly</em>.</p><p><em>Astrals</em>—  Ignis gasped as if he’d been punched in the stomach, nothing actually coherent coming out as Noct stroked him from base to tip, lighting a fire beneath his skin—a hot, concentrated blaze.  He could only labor to breathe as Noct pumped his hand in a slow but persistent rhythm, with absolutely no regard for Ignis’s shredding—disintegrating—self-control.</p><p>Noct let out a warm sound—watching him probably—watching what his touch was doing to him, shattering Ignis’s sanity to pieces, and enjoying it, no question.</p><p>Ignis gripped the sheets.  “<em>Noct</em>,” –a warning, and Noct released him.  He heard the tear of a packet, then Noct was rolling the condom onto him, even remembering to pinch the air out of the tip, which somewhat surprised Ignis given that Noct probably hadn’t done this since sex-ed in school.  Unless he’d read the instructions…or practiced the night before.  <em>Hm</em>.</p><p>“That OK?” Noct asked.</p><p>“Yes.”  Ignis breathed out, letting his hand roam the sheets.  “The lubricant—”</p><p>“I got it.”  The cap popped open, then Noct was smoothing slick hands onto him; Ignis measured his breaths, in and out and in…</p><p>There was a slight respite as Noct reached for something else—tissues, it sounded like—the box tumbling onto the bed nearby.</p><p>Then Noct shifted against him, his thighs bracketing Ignis’s hips.  “OK?”</p><p>“Yes.”  Ignis curled his arm around Noct’s waist, guiding Noct to him…while Noct lifted himself and pushed down— </p><p>After a quick second to fix their alignment, there was pressure and fiery heat as Noct took the tip of him inside.  <em>Oh God—</em>  Ignis heard a soft hiss of breath, but Noct didn’t stop, seeming determined to do this all at once—</p><p>He scrabbled for Noct’s hips in a panic.  “Slowly, <em>please</em>,” he said between gasps, for his sake perhaps more than Noct’s.  He wouldn’t last at all otherwise.</p><p>Noct relented, thankfully, slowing and working himself down a bit at a time.  It was a different kind of torture, this, feeling all of the feverish heat and the <em>impossible</em> tightness of Noct’s body; it left Ignis shaking, his fingers digging into Noct’s skin.</p><p>Then, at long last, he was buried fully, Noct resting on his thighs.  Ignis groaned, his lashes fluttering, their thick, shared breaths filling the space between them.</p><p>“You OK?” Noct asked.</p><p>Ridiculous question.  Ignis huffed a laugh.  “I ought to be asking you.”</p><p>“Feels good,” Noct said, breathing a deeper breath and kissing him.</p><p>His king was too much—<em>gloriously</em> too much.  Ignis pressed forward into their kiss, eagerly tangling their tongues together as Noct’s arms wrapped his shoulders.  He loosened his grip on Noct’s hips, smoothing his thumbs over the little indents he’d made in Noct’s skin—which he was not sorry about—as he savored the sensation of their joining.  The compulsion to move was building, but Ignis held back and held still, wanting to give Noct time to adjust.</p><p>Sooner than he would’ve thought, Noct rocked against him—languidly, questing—while his erection grazed Ignis’s abdomen, leaving a wet trail on his skin.</p><p>They broke the kiss for air, breathing against each other’s mouths.</p><p>“Gonna move?” Noct asked.</p><p>Ignis lifted a brow.  “Up to you.  <em>You’re</em> calling the shots, Noct.”</p><p>“Guess I am.”  Noct smiled—<em>smirked</em>—against Ignis’s lips and he could have been the tiniest bit annoyed if Noct didn’t right then shift for leverage and lift himself only to slide down all the way—</p><p>Ignis <em>shook</em> with pleasure.  They moaned in unison…and Noct did it again.</p><p>Ignis let his hands wander over Noct’s back, feeling the muscles flex and stretch beneath his palms—anything to distract himself as Noct tried a few things, taking him in shallow versus deeply, rocking motions or more of a bounce—<em>Astrals, Noct</em>.  His king eventually settled on slow, <em>full</em> glides, pressing down, unknowingly or knowingly dismantling him with each successive plunge.</p><p>“Still OK?” Noct asked, arms locked around Ignis’s neck, thighs trapping Ignis’s hips as he moved <em>relentlessly</em>.</p><p>“<em>Noct</em>.”  Ignis barely got the name out between groans, his head falling back against the pillows.  “If it’s your intent to leave me shattered and ruined…you’re well on your way.”</p><p>“Yeah.”  Noct sounded pleased, his breath warm against Ignis’s face.  “That’s the idea.”</p><p>Oh, he couldn’t help a bit of <em>revenge</em> hearing that, grasping Noct’s hips and adjusting their angle, thrusting up just as Noct sank down.</p><p>Noct paused, trembling, a startled moan issuing from his lips.  “What—?”</p><p>“Seems my aim hasn’t suffered,” Ignis said, allowing a smug little smile.</p><p>“<em>Huh</em>.”  Noct breathed out, pushing with his knees to lift himself again.  “Keep doing that.”</p><p>—An order Ignis did not mind complying with as they began to move with intent.  It didn’t stay slow, as Noct picked up the pace and Ignis matched him, their breathing turning harsh and sweat breaking out on their skin.  He lost track of everything save the warm glide of their bodies, Noct’s scent and heat and gasps—his king unraveling for him as they chased their shared pleasure.</p><p>And then Noct crushed their mouths together—lips parted, tongue demanding—and that was really what wrecked him.  Because it was <em>Noct </em>wanting him and that broke every last thread holding him back.  Ignis moaned into his king’s mouth, his self-control <em>gone.</em>  He let himself drive upward—pulling Noct down to meet him—and Noct all but shouted down his throat, grinding against him with their chests pressed tight.  <em>Oh God—</em>  Fire blazed beneath Ignis’s skin and he knew he would not last, greedily prying a hand off Noct’s hip to grip his erection instead.</p><p>“<em>Specs!”</em>  It was not a protest, Noct shuddering against him.  His body tensed, fingernails digging into Ignis’s shoulders as he snapped his hips down <em>hard</em>, repeatedly, urgently—</p><p>Ignis pumped his hand—firm, fast strokes, gasping as their movements grew increasingly frantic.  “<em>Noct…!</em>”  He was at his limit now, trembling, his heart hammering in his chest—</p><p>And then Noct pitched forward against him, taut and shaking, a low, ragged groan right in Ignis’s ear.</p><p>Warmth splashed between them, dripping onto Ignis’s fingers, and he was <em>undone</em>—thrusting deep and spilling inside with a shattered cry, holding tight to Noct as he arched off the pillows.  His entire body shook as he hung there, his heels digging into the mattress, until he was finally spent.</p><p>His limbs were jelly afterwards, Ignis collapsing down to the bed with Noct on top of him.  It was some time—he did not know how long—before he was able to form a coherent thought.  When he eventually did, he found Noct slumped tiredly against his chest, both of them boneless and quivering…breathless and sweaty and sticky in a tangle of sheets.</p><p>It was <em>wonderful</em>.</p><p>He wasn’t sure who moved first, but then they were kissing—lazy glides of lips and tongue in between dragging breaths.  Noct nuzzled against him and Ignis could feel him smiling.</p><p>“Alright?” he asked, sliding his hands up Noct’s back, feeling the tackiness of Noct’s skin under his fingers.</p><p>“Oh <em>God</em>, yes,” Noct said, chest heaving against his.</p><p>Ignis smiled, brushing hair back from Noct’s face and kissing him again, sweetly and languidly, Noct’s beard prickly against his palms.</p><p>Minutes passed in drowsy, wordless bliss as they held each other…until, with some reluctance, Ignis decided they ought to address the rapidly cooling mess and he reached out, patting the sheets around them.</p><p>“Hm?” Noct asked.</p><p>“Where did that tissue box end up?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s—”  Noct retrieved it and they both worked to clean up Ignis’s chest and abdomen, still joined and shivering with aftershocks of pleasure.  “All the way up here,” Noct muttered, sounding sheepish as he wiped a spot above Ignis’s right nipple.  “How’d I manage that?”</p><p>“Nothing in my hair, I hope,” Ignis said, teasing him.</p><p>Noct snorted.</p><p>With another tissue in hand, Ignis reached between them, grasping the base of the condom.  “Alright, if you would—”</p><p>Noct lifted off of him with a soft grunt, Ignis immediately lamenting the separation of their bodies as his king dropped down to the bed beside him.</p><p>Noct breathed out, a bit of air pressed through his teeth.  “I’m gonna be feeling this a while, aren’t I?”</p><p>“Suppose I could’ve warned you,” Ignis said, sliding the condom off with a slight wince and tying a knot into it.  He discarded it with the used tissues and wiped off his hands.  “On the other hand, <em>I</em> feel thoroughly seduced, so I could say—”</p><p>Noct laughed.  “<em>You’re</em> the one who walked into my office with a beard.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “Truly?”  He rubbed his cleanshaven jaw.  “Seems I’ll have to reconsider, if this is to be the result.”</p><p>Noct caught his hand, squeezing it between both of his.  “So?  Shower, you think?”</p><p>A shower with Noct sounded delightful.  <em>However</em>…  “I would like a bath,” Ignis said, feeling indulgent.  “With you in it.”</p><p>“That I can do,” Noct said, pulling on his hand.</p><p>…In short order, they were nestled together in hot water and suds and it was every bit as blissful as Ignis had imagined.  Noct reclined against his chest, wet hair pasted to Ignis’s skin, and Ignis had his arms wrapped around his king, their legs tangled together in the bottom of the tub.</p><p>Noct heaved a drowsy, contented sigh, snuggling in against him.  “Love you, Specs.”</p><p>“And I love you.”  Ignis pressed a kiss to his hair.  “Always and all ways.”</p><p>“Mm.”  Noct was smiling; Ignis didn’t have to see it to know.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Finally at the end.  Thanks so much for reading! ❤</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up to Noct was not entirely new, of course.  Waking up to a <em>lover</em>…well, Ignis hadn’t woken to a lover before.  His youthful liaisons had been physical and hormonal rather than emotional, sating needs for both parties without involving his heart, which firmly belonged to another.  He never stayed long enough for the inevitable regret to set in, simply returning to his duties and to the prince he could never be with.  So he hadn’t really had a <em>lover</em> before—not in the sense that mattered.  Noct was his first and his only.  There was a sort of irony to it that as prince, Noct had been untouchable, but as <em>king</em>…the evidence was naked in his arms, using his chest for a pillow, and lightly snoring.</p><p>Ignis gently carded his fingers through Noct’s hair, feeling the softness against his fingertips.  ‘Lucky’ was not a word he used—this was something else entirely.  Something almost too wonderful to be real.  Yet this was not a dream—the blackness of his vision and the warmth of sunlight against the bedsheets confirmed it for him.  For all that he’d lost, he’d gained so much more.</p><p>As Noct stirred with a breathy sigh, Ignis let his hand drift, light and slow, down his lover’s back.  There was no rush this morning—no timetables, no schedules of where they needed to be or when—so for once he had no need to prod Noct awake.  He could simply enjoy himself, lying in bed with his king as Noct gradually roused.</p><p>It did take a while.  Noct eventually lifted his head, probably leaving a dried patch of drool on Ignis’s chest, though he wasn’t about to mention it.</p><p>“Specs.”  Noct’s voice was adorably croaky first thing in the morning.  “What time is it?”</p><p>“You tell me,” Ignis said, reaching to brush hair from his lover’s face.  “My phone is still in the pocket of my trousers, I suspect.  Somewhere on your floor.”</p><p>“Right.”  Noct twisted, and Ignis took advantage of the moment to smooth Noct’s bedhead, picturing with a smile the various unruly tufts he found.  “Wow, almost eight already.”  Noct’s voice warmed.  “We slept in.”</p><p>So they had.  Ignis didn’t mind at all.  “I seem to recall us both being rather tired when we went to bed.”</p><p>Noct slid up to kiss him and Ignis wrapped his arms tightly around his king, luxuriating in the touch of skin, in the intimacy of the embrace as their lips lingered on each other’s.</p><p>At length, Noct drew back, resting on his chest.  “Best sleep I’ve had in ages.”</p><p>Ignis’s heart thrilled inside him, hearing that.  He smiled.  “We’ll miss breakfast, I suppose, though if we sneak into the kitchens, I’m certain I can whip something up for us.”</p><p>“Oh, hey.”  Noct’s head popped up.  “Hold that thought.”  Before Ignis could even formulate a question, Noct was sliding from his arms and jumping from the bed, not bothering with any clothes by the sound of it as he left the room.</p><p><em>Hm</em>.  Ignis sat up to wait, leaning back against the tufted leather headboard with the blankets smoothed up to his waist.</p><p>Before long, Noct returned, climbing onto the bed beside him and slipping under the covers.  “I planned to give you this before, but…  I’ve been a little distracted.” </p><p>Noct placed a binder in his hands, sized for full sheets of paper.  Ignis ran his hands over it, finding the labels on the spine and cover. </p><p>
  <em>Ignis Scientia – Recipes</em>
</p><p>His lips parted around an intake of breath.  “Noct.  Is this what I think it is?”</p><p>“I didn’t know if you already had everything in your phone or not.  And I wanted to test out the equipment.  So, I…”  Noct stopped, sighing heavily.  “No, actually it was one of the only ways I stayed sane those last couple of months, waiting for you to wake up.  I worked on it every night.”</p><p>Ignis opened to the first page, running his fingertips over a header for <em>Fluffy Chiffon Cake</em>—one of his personal favorites—with the list of ingredients and the method underneath.  A hot lump formed in his throat.  “Noct, I…”  He had no words to describe how deeply moved and loved he felt, nor for the buoyant glow that swelled and filled his chest.  “I am truly speechless.  This is…”  His eyes moistened.  “This is quite a wonderful gift, thank you.”</p><p>Noct scooted closer to him, their arms and thighs touching.  “Each page is embossed on one side and ink printed on the other.  So if you have a helper…or if we cook together, like we used to sometimes…”</p><p>Ignis reached for Noct and kissed him—deep and sweet—trailing his hand down the side of his lover’s face.  “I am touched, Noct, that you would do this for me.  It must have taken some time.”</p><p>Noct laid a hand over his.  “As I said.”  He turned his head, kissing the center of Ignis’s palm.  “I’ve got everything digitized for the screen reader too, if you prefer.”</p><p>“Voice command has its pros and cons, but there’s nothing like having a reference under your fingers.”  Ignis settled back, flipping a few more pages and reading the headings.  “You put everything in here?”</p><p>Noct hummed, warm and fond.  “All but one.  The tart recipe.  You’d changed it so many times I couldn’t figure it out.”</p><p>“That one I have memorized.  In all of its failed variations.”  Ignis smiled.  “When there are ulwaat berries again, I’ll make you my latest.  I did consult with a few pastry chefs from Tenebrae during the Night.  I have a feeling the next batch may be the one.”</p><p>“Can’t wait to try it,” Noct said.  “It’s a date, Specs, and I’ll transcribe the recipe for you.”</p><p>Ignis shifted, kissing Noct again, his heart ever so <em>full</em> in his chest.  “That sounds lovely, Noct.”  He closed the binder.  “Now then, what do you say we get dressed and see about some breakfast?”</p><p>“Oh, I’ll get out of bed for your cooking.  You don’t have to ask twice.”  He started to move and then paused suddenly with a soft grunt.</p><p>“Alright?” Ignis asked.</p><p>Noct exhaled, sounding amused.  “Just a bit sore.”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips.  Certainly he could have been gentler…  “Perhaps I—”</p><p>“Oh no.  I have <em>no</em> regrets, Specs.  Not a single one.”</p><p>Hearing that, Ignis relaxed.</p><p>“We’re definitely doing that again.  Just maybe not right this second.”</p><p>“Well, there are plenty of other ways and other things we can do in the meantime.”</p><p>Noct went quiet for a moment.  “You’re gonna say I should keep my plans with Luna tonight, aren’t you.”</p><p>“I insist that you do.”  Ignis imagined Noct looking none too pleased.  “That said…”  He lifted his hand to Noct’s face, tracing Noct’s lower lip with the tip of his thumb.  “Come back before it gets too late and I will make it worth your while.”  He leaned in to capture Noct’s lips, pulling his lover against him.</p><p>For a moment, everything was <em>heat</em> and the slow glide of their tongues and throaty sounds of bliss…</p><p>They were both breathless when they parted.</p><p>“Yeah, definitely,” Noct said, inhaling.  He paused.  “Except that I’ll be thinking about it <em>all day</em>.”  He groaned softly.  “I’ll be thinking about it when I’m <em>with Luna</em>.”</p><p>Ignis arched a brow.  “And how is that any different than last night at the reception?” he asked, ducking his head to trail kisses down the side of Noct’s neck.  “Providence’s omniscience notwithstanding.”</p><p>“<em>Everything’s</em> different, Specs.”  Noct sighed, tilting his head back.  “Luna won’t even need special Oracle powers.  One look at my face and she’ll know.”</p><p>“Oh?”  Ignis lifted his head.  “Have you written ‘I’ve just had sex’ on your forehead?”</p><p>Noct huffed, slipping his arms around him and gathering Ignis into a tight hug.  “Because I’m <em>happy</em>.  Like really happy.  For the first time in a long time.”  He pressed their foreheads together.  “It’s not just about sex, but…  It’s all of it.  All of <em>us.</em>”</p><p>Ignis exhaled.  “I am too, Noct.”  He smiled and kissed his king.  “Happy beyond words.”</p><p>When they eventually detangled themselves, Ignis went in search of his clothing.  He had nothing at Noct’s apartment—this was the first time he’d stayed over—so he had no choice but to wear his suit from the reception back to his apartment to change.  Everything was scattered around the sofa where they’d undressed each other the night before, and it took a bit of doing to separate his clothes from Noct’s.  But he found his underwear and trousers, and his shirt, donning these while he draped his jacket, tie, and waistcoat over the arm of the couch. </p><p>“Noct, do you see my tie clip or collar bar anywhere?”  Ignis stooped, feeling around on the floor.</p><p>“Gotta be around here somewhere,” Noct said, coming to join him.</p><p>Ignis turned, and bumped into a cardboard box on the floor—two of them, actually.</p><p>“Oh, we’re screwed if they fell in there,” Noct said.</p><p>“Why?  What are these?”</p><p>“Stuff from the Armiger.  My stuff and the communal stuff, and everything I couldn’t tell who it belonged to.  If you’re still missing things, they might be in there.”</p><p>“Oh, truly?” Ignis said, reaching into the closest box.  In it, he found various ore shards and bangles and coins, and the like.  Shifting onto his knees, he dug around in the second box and found poppeck fishing lures, and burrower fishing lures, and bomber fishing lures, and…  Ignis’s brow furrowed as he continued to reach around and found even more fishing lures…  “Noct…are all these?”  It was not a <em>small</em> box either—three feet by two feet and eighteen inches deep, thereabouts. </p><p>Noct had gone very, very quiet.</p><p><em>Oh dear</em>.  That could only mean—  “<em>Noctis Lucis Caelum</em>, is this <em>entire</em> <em>box</em> full of fishing lures?” </p><p>“No.”  Noct paused.  “Yes?”  His voice squeaked up at the end.</p><p>Ignis pushed his hand to the bottom, the lures closing in upwards of his elbow, trying desperately to keep a straight face.  “Do you see—”  Oh, it wasn’t going to work, he was already laughing. “Do you see how deep my arm is in here?!”  Unable to contain himself, he sat down on the floor, his shoulders shaking.</p><p>Noct was laughing too, dropping down beside him and slipping sheepishly into his arms.  They held each other, in stitches, until they couldn’t breathe and tears leaked from Ignis’s eyes.</p><p>-x-</p><p>After a delightful breakfast—the memories of Noct enjoying his cooking were sure to keep him company for most of the day—Ignis headed for his office.  It was a rare morning without meetings, but he still had work to do, not the least of which was checking the damage from having media present at last night’s reception.  Settling at his desk, Ignis donned his earbuds and picked up his tablet.  His screen reader came alive as soon as he woke it up and Ignis navigated to his app for the <em>Insomnian Times</em>.</p><p>A computerized voice read him today’s headline: “The future royal couple?  His Royal Majesty and Her Royal Highness in talks in the Crown City.”</p><p>And there it was, the limit of his indulgence.  Ignis drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He navigated to the article.</p><p>“Image caption:  King Noctis Lucis Caelum of Lucis and Oracle of Eos, Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae, enjoy a moment together at an evening reception in Insomnia.”</p><p>The door to Ignis’s office opened just as he’d finished reading.  “Have you seen this?” Gladio asked.</p><p>Ignis removed his earbuds, lips pursed.  “I expect you’re referring to today’s top headline in the <em>Insomnian Times</em>.”</p><p>Gladio crossed the room towards him.  “Yup.”  His voice was sour.  “Front page.”  He tossed the newspaper down on top of Ignis’s desk.</p><p>“The photograph?” Ignis asked.</p><p>“Him and Luna last night.  She’s on his arm, they’re smiling at each other.  The entire article’s conjecture.”</p><p>“Is this what he’s always done?  Someone brings him a photograph and he <em>invents</em> the news to go with it?”</p><p>Gladio’s only response was an irritated exhale.</p><p>“Well.  I’d say it’s about time we paid Mr. Dorden a visit.”  Ignis rose from his chair.  “Care to join me?”</p><p>-x-</p><p>Meteor Publishing had relocated to Insomnia in one of the early waves after the Dawn, once civilians were allowed back into the city, as Ignis understood it.  Vyv Dorden and his staff had coopted an office building a block from the Citadel—one of the few that had escaped major structural damage during Niflheim’s attack.  It was a short walk on a sunny, if slightly chilly spring day, and Ignis was pleased to find himself not winded at all upon their arrival.</p><p>The receptionist greeted them as they entered the building and almost immediately, Ignis and Gladio were shown to the elevator, riding up to the 10<sup>th</sup> floor.  Almost as if Vyv were expecting their visit.  <em>Hm</em>.</p><p>They were taken to the CEO’s office—it was a large, open space with plenty of daylight streaming in, though that was as much as Ignis could make of it.  He had his cane out, discretely held in front of him as footsteps approached.</p><p>“Still can’t get used to seeing him in a suit,” Gladio muttered.</p><p><em>Truly?</em>  That boded well, in Ignis’s mind.  Perhaps they’d be able to have a substantive conversation, one professional to another.</p><p>“Well here’s a sight for sore eyes,” Vyv said, meeting them at the door.  “It’s good to see you back among the living, Mr. Scientia.  I would’ve said so at the reception, but didn’t end up having the chance.”</p><p>Ignis flashed back to the prior night—to Noct in his arms, to taking each other apart, one pleasure at a time.  He didn’t feel even a sliver of regret, despite the potential indiscretion of having their absence noticed.  Ignis smiled a practiced smile, his hands resting atop his cane.  “Thank you, Mr. Dorden.  I’m quite happy to be back, as you might imagine.”</p><p>“Please, come in and have a seat.  Right over here.”</p><p>Ignis followed Vyv’s voice to a leather couch and sat down, crossing his legs with his cane beside him.  Gladio sat next to him on the right.</p><p>“Can I offer you gents something to drink?  Coffee or anything?”</p><p>“I’m good,” Gladio said.</p><p>Ignis nodded.  “Thank you, but my hope is that we’ll not need much of your time.”</p><p>“Well.”  Vyv sat across from them.  “Offer stands.  Want my guests to be comfortable, after all.  Especially you, Mr. Scientia.  I heard your injuries were pretty bad.”</p><p>“Your concern is appreciated,” Ignis said.</p><p>“I mean, they say you were basically brought back from the dead.”</p><p>He withheld a sigh.  “I’m not sure whom ‘they’ are, that you’re referring to, but my medical information is not for public consumption.”</p><p>Vyv shifted, leather creaking.  “If you change your mind, let me know.  Sounds like one hell of a story.”</p><p>“Speaking of stories…”  Ignis adjusted his visor.  “I’d like to talk to you about the one that appeared on the front page of today’s paper.  Quite a piece of work, that.  Though I’m not sure it qualifies as <em>journalism</em>, seeing as the author cited no sources and had no actual facts to go on.”</p><p>“You know they say a picture’s worth a thousand words.  That’s what my guy did—added the words.”</p><p>“Is that what you call it?”  Ignis folded his hands on top of his knee.  “I’d call it a work of fiction.  Well-written, perhaps, but <em>fiction</em> nonetheless.”</p><p>Vyv sighed.  “You say that, but it’s everywhere—on everyone’s minds.  Anytime a picture of the two of them gets posted on the ‘net it goes viral in seconds.  Message boards crash, servers crash—the whole nine yards.  And neither of them have said a word, one way or the other.  <em>Of course</em> there’s gonna be speculation.  Everyone’s just holding their breath, waiting for the announcement.”</p><p>“You know.”  Ignis exhaled.  “It’s not so much the subject matter that gets to me.  It’s the fact that <em>fabricated</em> stories belong in scandal sheets and on ‘message boards’ as you mention, not on the cover of the premier and most <em>trusted</em> news source in Insomnia.”</p><p>“Hey.  I’ve built an empire getting the right story out—that thing people are dying to read about.  I know my audience, Mr. Scientia.  This is the news they care about.”</p><p>“It’s not <em>news</em>,” Gladio said from Ignis’s right.  “When you’re just making it up.”</p><p>“Well, how about this for news,” Vyv said.  “That photo was a good one, but it wasn’t the only one my photographer got last night.  Think <em>that</em> qualifies as news?  I wouldn’t even have to publish more than a caption.”</p><p>“What’re you talking about?” Gladio asked.</p><p>“Pretty sure Mr. Scientia knows what I’m talking about.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I do,” Ignis said.  “I’m not sure what you think you have.”</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>,” Vyv said, sounding amused.  “And I’m sure you’d pass it off as the king being concerned for the health of his injured chamberlain.  It’s just…if I put the pictures side-by-side, there’s kind of a telling difference, the way His Majesty looks at Her Highness, versus the way he looks at you.”</p><p>Ignis maintained a smile, unfazed.</p><p>“Blackmail, huh?”  Gladio snorted.  “Is that what you think you’re doing?”</p><p>“I think I won’t be run out of town, or have people tell me what I can and can’t publish.  Especially the government.  That’s what I think.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m not here to tell you what you can or cannot publish, Mr. Dorden,” Ignis said.  “Free speech is a government-protected right within Lucis, after all.  But the Crown does decide where our press releases and media exclusives go, and I can assure you we will be directing them to a <em>reputable</em> publication.  If Meteor Publishing would like to remain the creators of that publication, I suggest you reacquaint your journalists with the tenets of fact-based journalism.”  He paused for effect.  “However, if you’d like the <em>Insomnia Times</em> to become a tabloid, then please.”  Ignis narrowed his eyes, ever so slightly.  “Have at it.  We are prepared to make the necessary changes by the end of the day.”</p><p>Vyv did not answer, did not make a single sound.</p><p>Ignis affected a smile, purposefully lightening his voice.  “Do give it some thought.  Should you have any questions, you may direct them to our office.”  He paused again.  When Vyv still did not reply, Ignis stood up, Gladio doing the same.  “Well, then.  I believe we’re done here.”  He took up his cane and turned to round the sofa.</p><p>“You’re not at all worried about it getting out,” Vyv said.</p><p>“I think I’ve made our position quite clear,” Ignis said.  “Publish whatever you want, Mr. Dorden.  For the sake of the <em>long-standing</em> professional relationship between Meteor Publishing and the Crown, I do hope you have the facts to back it up.”</p><p>Vyv fell silent again.</p><p>Gladio clapped a hand on Ignis’s shoulder.  “Later, Vyv,” he said, guiding Ignis from the office.</p><p>They did not speak until they were once more outside, crossing the street in the late morning sunshine.  It was nice to hear the sound of vehicular and foot traffic on the streets and sidewalks of Insomnia again. </p><p>Gladio chuckled.  “You’re in rare form today, Iggy.”</p><p>Ignis pressed his lips.  “I will admit that was a bit satisfying.”</p><p>“Think he’ll fall in line?”</p><p>“Oh, I expect he will.  As soon as you mentioned what he was wearing, it assured me he’s taking his role quite seriously.”  Ignis smiled thinly.  “One does not sit a very lofty throne as Media King of a tabloid.”</p><p>Gladio snorted with amusement.</p><p>“Still.”  Ignis let his face smooth.  “It does seem that some sort of action may be warranted, to lay the rumors to rest.”</p><p>“Like them announcing the betrothal’s officially off?”</p><p>Ignis pondered for a moment, turning the thought over in his mind.  “Direct and to the point, though it does seem a bit heavy-handed doesn’t it?  The true believers, as it were, would likely read more into the <em>denouncement</em> than the current silence.”</p><p>“Hm.”</p><p>The problem…the problem was the <em>dress</em>.  As long as it remained in the Crown City, and everyone knew it was in Noctis’s possession, it gave credence to the idea that a marriage was forthcoming.  And yet, sending it back to Tenebrae with Lady Lunafreya would look like an insult, no matter how much Noct or the Oracle tried to explain things. </p><p>They passed through the Citadel gates, entering the main courtyard, when Ignis came up with a plan.  He’d have to ask permission, but it just…<em>it just might work.</em></p><p>Gladio elbowed him lightly in the arm.  “I know that face, Iggy.  What’d you come up with?”</p><p>“An idea,” he said.  “To indirectly signal the end of the betrothal and indicate that both parties have moved on.”  With a smile, Ignis angled his face towards his friend.  “Tell me, Gladio, might you happen to know a <em>bride</em> in need of a dress for her wedding?” </p><p>-x-</p><p>“Oh, Ignis, that’s a splendid idea!” Lunafreya said, squeezing his hand before letting go.  She sat to his right on the couch in Noct’s office.  “Supposing Valora is amenable to wear it, of course.  She’s taller than I am, but I’m certain appropriate alterations could be made.”</p><p>Across from him, Noct hummed, sounding ineffably pleased.  “I gotta say, Specs.  I’ve been trying to sort this out for <em>months</em>.  Then you come back and within two weeks…”</p><p>“Well, I always knew there was a reason you kept me around,” he said, aiming a smile in Noct’s direction.</p><p>He sensed Noct looking at him, as well.  Ignis couldn’t help but feel rather appreciated right then.  And perhaps more.</p><p>Gladio snorted.  “That’s the look, you know.  The one Vyv was talking about.”</p><p>“Don’t change the subject, big guy.  So?  You in?” Noct asked.</p><p>“I’ll, uh…”  Gladio cleared his throat awkwardly.  “I’ll ask Valora.”</p><p>“You said she said ‘yes.’  She’s wearing the ring.”</p><p>“Why not let the request come from me, Gladiolus?” Lunafreya asked.  “As the giver of the dress.  I don’t want her to feel pressured to wear it for political reasons.  If she doesn’t care to, I’m sure we can find someone else.  But I think it’s a matter best kept between us ladies.”</p><p>Gladio exhaled, sounding relieved.  “Thanks, Highness.”</p><p>Noct snorted.  “Think we could get <em>Aranea</em> to wear it?”</p><p>Ignis tried not to cringe.  “I think it’s best that no one suggest it, either in her hearing or Prompto’s.  I believe it may prove…detrimental to the suggester’s health.”</p><p>The others laughed, including Lunafreya who touched his hand.  “I quite agree, Ignis,” she said, her voice warm.</p><p>-x-</p><p>At the end of the day, when Ignis checked the <em>Insomnia News</em> app on his tablet, he was pleased to find that the evening news cycle had replaced the earlier top headline with a focus piece on the Transportation Summit and their progress to date, including side bars featuring several of the engineers who’d presented their ideas.  And though the photograph of Noct and Lunafreya was attached to the article, it was with a side piece about the reception—about how the event signaled the return of normalcy to Insomnia, much anticipated after nearly eleven years.  There were several reception photographs, not just the one of Noct and Lunafreya, and Ignis—pleasantly—only found himself captioned in one photo, alongside a few of the engineers.</p><p>News about them would come out eventually, of course.  Ignis didn’t dread the stir it would cause, though he did prefer to be in charge of the how and when, as much as possible.</p><p>He secretly wished he could see the look in Noct’s eyes that Vyv had mentioned—the one that made it clear to everyone who saw it that Noct loved him.  But, if he thought hard enough and thought back far enough, he could remember moments when Noct looked at him—across a table, or when saying goodnight, or that one time they’d shared a glass of Insomnian Red—those lingering glances that Ignis treasured, even though he told himself it was only his imagination; that he was only seeing what he wanted to see.  The signs were there, decades ago, for a love they’d only been able to find after the world ended and began anew.  But he no longer lamented the time they’d lost; instead, he looked forward to the time they had before them.</p><p>The intercom buzzed when Ignis was relaxing on the couch in his bedroom in his pajamas and housecoat, having traded his tablet and work for the binder of recipes Noct made for him.  He was reading through a few of his favorites just for the pleasure of it, reminding himself of places and people and various parts of their adventure, and the way Noct’s face would light up when Ignis cooked something he particularly liked.  It was still quite early—suspiciously so—as Ignis reached for the end table and pressed the appropriate button on the intercom box to let Noct into his apartment.</p><p>He heard the outer door open and close; a moment later, Noct’s footsteps were in the bedroom doorway.</p><p>“Hey,” Noct said, entering the room.</p><p>Ignis closed the binder and got to his feet, greeting his lover with a kiss.  “I hope you didn’t rush here.”  Noct was dressed for bed also, his plush robe soft and luxurious under Ignis’s palms.</p><p>“Nope,” Noct said, his hands settling on Ignis’s waist.  “Luna wanted to turn in early anyway.  Said she was up pretty late last night with Iris.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose it’s alright then.”  Ignis cupped Noct’s face in his hands, the kiss longer and sweeter than the last, waking the first gentle stirrings of desire. </p><p>When they parted, Noct stepped back and caught his hands.  “Would you come out with me for a minute?”</p><p>Ignis allowed himself to be led from the room.  “Out to where?”</p><p>“Just the main room.”  Noct guided him down the hall, through the sitting room to the dining room table adjacent to the kitchen.  “Found something in storage in the office lounge.  My dad must’ve kept it.”  He took Ignis’s hands and pressed a heavy bottle—a wine bottle—into them.</p><p>The bottle was sealed and dusty; Ignis ran his fingers over the label.  <em>Oh</em>.  A lump formed in his throat.  He knew this bottle well, thumbing over embossed letters and numerals for <em>M.E. 735</em>.  “Noct, is this…?”</p><p>“The red, from the year I was born?  Yeah,” Noct said.  “There’s a whole case downstairs—twelve bottles.  Just like the one we shared that one time.  Just like the one you kept in the Armiger during the Night.” </p><p>Ignis heard the clink of stemware.</p><p>“I thought we could have a glass together.”</p><p>“Noct.”  Ignis swallowed, blinking back the moisture in his eyes.  “As I recall, you didn’t care much for wine, back then.”</p><p>“I’ve acquired a taste for it.”  Noct paused.  “I drank it while you slept.  A lot of it, a couple times.  More than I should’ve.  But it reminded me of you.”</p><p>Ignis let out a slow breath, trying to hold himself together.  “Well then.”  He carefully placed the bottle on the table.  “I would like that very much.”</p><p>“Great!”</p><p>And then there was an expectant silence that made Ignis want to smile. </p><p>“Did you happen to bring a corkscrew?” he asked, already knowing the answer.</p><p>“Uh.”</p><p>Ignis gave in and smiled.  “Drawer to the left of the stove.”</p><p>Noct moved off into the kitchen—there was the sound of a drawer opening and some rummaging, despite the fact that there were precisely five utensils in that particular drawer.  He returned after a moment, placing the corkscrew in Ignis’s hand.</p><p>Ignis peeled back the foil and opened the bottle, inhaling the familiar bouquet of the wine.  He poured two glasses, listening to the gentle slosh of the wine to know when it was the right amount and giving the bottle a little turn at the end of each pour to avoid drips. </p><p>Their fingers brushed as Ignis handed Noct his glass.  He lifted his own, wishing he could see the light sparkle in the burgundy wine, wishing he could see the way Noct was looking at him.</p><p>Noct caught his hand.  “Come outside with me?”</p><p>They went out to the balcony off the main room.  It was a bit chilly, but Ignis’s robe was warm and Noct pressed right up against him as they stood at the railing.  Insomnia was a peaceful, slumbering quiet, nothing like the restless city they’d left behind with its ceaseless activity.  Ignis didn’t mind the stillness.</p><p>“Cheers.”  Noct gently clinked their glasses together.</p><p>“Cheers.”  Ignis sipped…and the taste of the wine reminded him of ten years of Noct’s birthdays.  Ten years of hope and loss and waiting.  He wrapped his arm tightly around Noct—his king, his lover—alive and well beside him.  Ten years eclipsed by <em>now</em>.</p><p>Noct leaned into him.  “I realize you can’t see them, but the stars are beautiful above Insomnia.  Since the city’s not all lit up yet.”  His voice was warm and fond, full of nostalgia.</p><p>Ignis smiled, memories coming to him of countless nights they’d spent sneaking out of their beds as children, trying to see the stars and pick out all of the various constellations despite Insomnia’s glow.  “That brings to mind another mystery.  I seem to recall, a long time ago, placing a certain book into the Armiger…”</p><p>“I have it,” Noct said.  “It’s in my desk downstairs.”</p><p>“Ah.”  It filled him with pleasure to know that Noct had seen it and treasured it as much as he did. </p><p>“I was surprised you kept it.  After all this time.” </p><p>“It’s important to me,” Ignis said, tilting his face towards Noct’s.  “Every part of you, every part of us, is important to me, Noct.”</p><p>Noct drew a slow breath, his hand tangling into the fabric of Ignis’s robe.</p><p>Ignis leaned down to kiss him, capturing Noct’s lips, tasting the sweetness of the wine on Noct’s tongue. </p><p>When they parted, Noct let out a breathy, wavering exhale which Ignis shamelessly enjoyed.  He hid a smile with another sip from his glass.</p><p>As they fell into a companionable silence, the night breeze sifting through their hair, Ignis found himself looking up towards the stars he could not see, imagining what they must look like, twinkling against the inky night sky.  There was a brighter glow, high above them a bit to the left.</p><p>“The moon’s out?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Noct said, shifting in his arms, resting his head against Ignis’s shoulder as he looked up.  “About half-full.  Waxing I think.” </p><p>Ignis smiled.  “A sight I’ve not seen in some time.”</p><p>Noct turned his head, his breath drifting over Ignis’s collarbone.  “Different than during the Night?”</p><p>“Oh yes,” Ignis said, breathing out.  “It isn’t just the light.  The air itself is different—clear and sweet.  No longer stifling.  No longer heavy.”</p><p>Noct hummed a little and pressed closer—snuggling in and resting against him.  It was just like before, when they would huddle outside in a blanket, sharing warmth as they traded sleep for stargazing.</p><p>And now, some twenty, twenty-five years later…  Ignis smiled, pressing a kiss to Noct’s hair and inhaling the scent of the shampoo they’d used the night before.  He’d prayed never expecting an answer, and certainly not expecting this.  It seemed that Providence was not so lofty and so far removed as he’d thought.  And with Lady Lunafreya as Their representative, he certainly had a better inkling now of the warmth and care and benevolence of their Deity.</p><p>Ignis looked up again, past the smudge of brighter gray high above and the stars he knew were there.  <em>Thank you</em>. </p><p>There was no audible answer, of course, but in the stillness of the night and the stirring of his heart, he was certain the sentiment was heard, nonetheless.</p><p>Noct shifted against him.  “Specs?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“This whole…betrothal thing.”  Noct exhaled, as if he’d been mulling over the topic for some time.  “Thanks.  It’s a weight off.”</p><p>“I would say thank me when it’s finally public, but you’re welcome, all the same.”  Ignis pressed his lips, hesitating, but eventually deciding to voice his thoughts.  No point leaving anything unsaid between them, anymore.  “There are still things to be addressed, but we’ll have time, Noct.” </p><p>“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it.  Chatting with Luna some…”  There was a thoughtful pause.  “Ignis, you said…  You said I’m your king whether I wear the crown or not.  So if…someday…I decided to take it off…?” </p><p>Ignis let his words sink in, considering them with due care.  “Abdicate, you mean.  To form a new government for Lucis.” </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>He did feel a sense of loss associated with the idea, given all that he’d expected and trained for his whole life.  But it was quite brief—like the brush of the wind and then gone.  Because his priorities had shifted a long time ago.  “I hope you know you won’t be rid of me that easily.  The kingdom is a job.  But you…”  He lay his hand gently against Noct’s face.  “You are everything to me.  I will go where you go, and I will always be by your side.”  <em>To the very end.</em> </p><p>“Specs.”  Noct stretched up to kiss him, the touch of their lips lingering and soft.  “I’ll hold you to it.” </p><p>Mindful of their wine glasses, Ignis wrapped both arms around his king, hugging Noct to him.  “You may.” </p><p>There was another pause, longer, Noct breathing out against his lips.  “You know…speaking of betrothals.  Turns out I’m not <em>opposed</em> to getting married someday.  Supposing a certain someone is interested too.” </p><p>“Oh?”  Ignis lifted a brow, even as his heart started to beat a little faster.  “Given this some thought, have you?”</p><p>“I’ve got a few ideas.”  Noct kissed the corner of his mouth.  “I mean, Prince Consort is a pretty sexy title I could give you.” </p><p>Ignis smiled.  “It does have certain…unmistakable implications.  Though you realize you’d have to wear the crown long enough for us to <em>enjoy</em> it.” </p><p>Noct hummed his agreement, capturing his lips again. </p><p>“Admit it,” Ignis whispered between kisses, teasing, “you just want more ways to call me yours.  A ring on my finger.  Being able to call me your husband.”  Both thoughts had quite the appeal really.  More things he never would have asked for or dreamed of, and yet…  <em>Oh Noct.</em></p><p>“What can I say?  I’m pretty selfish too, it turns out.”  Noct wrapped an arm around him, kissing him back.   </p><p>When they eventually broke apart to breathe, Ignis could feel the weight of Noct’s searching gaze. </p><p>“You’re not against the idea?” Noct asked, his fingers curling into the fabric of Ignis’s robe. </p><p>Ignis pressed his lips—warm and tingling from their kisses—and smiled.  “Well, this conversation does not preclude one of us from proposing <em>properly</em> in the future, you understand.” </p><p>Noct made an amused sound. </p><p>Dropping the tease, Ignis angled his face towards his king’s.  “I am not opposed, Noct,” he said, reaching to cup his lover’s cheek, hoping Noct could see the depth of his sincerity.  “All of me—all of my life, all that I am—is yours.  I don’t mind publicizing my devotion.” </p><p>“Nn.”  Noct shook his head beneath Ignis’s touch.  “It’s the other way around, Specs.  This way everyone gets to know that I’m <em>yours</em>.”  He caught Ignis’s hand, palm to palm, interlacing their fingers.  “It’s my turn to promise you.” </p><p>Ignis inhaled sharply, moisture burning in his eyes.</p><p>They kissed, sinking into each other, until they were breathless. </p><p>“You once said—” Noct barely broke the kiss to whisper, “you once said you’d choose me over the world.” </p><p>“I still do,” Ignis said without hesitation. </p><p>Noct’s breath hit his lips warmly.  “I wouldn’t trade this for all the world either,” he said and kissed him again.  “The world can be Luna’s problem.  Long as I’ve got you.” </p><p><em>Noct—  </em>Ignis kissed his king deeply, his heart overflowing.  He held Noct to him tightly as their lips and tongues melded, as heat blossomed between them, unfurling into things that needed to be said without words.  “Finish your wine.” </p><p>Noct shivered against him, a soft groan issuing from his throat.  His hand fell to the belt of Ignis’s robe, curling around it.  “Taking me to bed?” </p><p>“Oh yes,” Ignis whispered against his king’s lips, drawing them away from the railing.  “<em>Majesty</em>.” </p>
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